Both Sides of the Prison Walls
by Richard Banker
Summary: Even after release, prison can be hard to shake off.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: All the characters used within this story are the property of Shed Productions. I am using them solely to explore my creative ability.

Both Sides of the Prison Walls

By

Richard

Chapter One

Yvonne stared into her mirror while she arranged her hair ready for the usual knock on the door that, sure as clockwork, came at the appointed hour. In

recent months, she had been more inclined to get up early as there was more to get up for. Slowly but surely, the days and weeks crawled their way off

the calendar and the appointed day May 7th 2003 would arrive when none of those screws would have any more power over her life any more.

"Time to go to the shower," came Bodybag's usual sour faced greeting to her. Is she ever going to stop kidding herself she can get one up on me? You can

see the key sticking out of the back of her head winding up the spring to her brain only it's still bleeding slow.

"Not that many more days left for you to say that, Sylvia." Yvonne said. She had realized that the strutting woman who revelled in being called "Mrs Hollamby"

or "Miss" would never be called that by her. She knew exactly where her weak spots were and how to exploit them. She was the sort of woman she was used

to cheeking since she was in school, she got away with it then and she had got it down now to a fine art.

Yvonne sauntered casually down the corridor in that way that conveyed disrespect and she knew wound Bodybag up. She hardly took in the familiar yellow paint

over rough brickwork that was part of Larkhall life that she had got so used to. Past the 'anti drug' poster that was displayed in a well meaning fashion

half the way down the corridor to the showers that was more communal than the one she, in a long lost incarnation at home, used to luxuriate in of a Saturday

morning.

She strolled back, her hair still wet wearing her dressing gown that, even after the Larkhall Prison washing machine had done its worst to it, was more

stylish than most. The routine she settled in was for breakfast, as served by the 2 Julies.

"Hi Yvonne, want the usual today, it's your favourite." Julie Johnson served also her welcoming smile that she would always associate her with. "Not many

more of these till you get your freedom."

"Your freedom, yeah." Came the inevitable 'line capping' by Julie Johnson depending which way round it happened to be.

"Yeah, well, I've just got to watch out in case Fenner."and at the back of her mind Yvonne was grateful that the human being was attached to a name that

could be spat out as she spoke. "doesn't fit me up for any more murders like when O'Kane was drowned," and here Yvonne looked, hard faced, at him as he

strode past and glared back. Mutual hostilities and suspicion between the pair of them as long as Yvoone had been inside Larkhall.

Turning round sharply with her tray, she barged sideways into the hated figure of Snowball Merriman with an 'Oops, sorry in case I hurt you.' in tones not

intended to deceive, till she saw the smiling face of Denny, whom she made a beeline for. Of all the younger cons whom she had indulged her mothering instinct

on, Denny was always her favourite. Despite her forbidding appearance complete with tattoos, Denny always greeted her with the open smile like the twelve

year old kid she had been once.

"Not long before you're out of this shithole, man" Denny said, without a trace of jealousy in her tone. This real generosity and selflessness really reached

the underlying softness in Yvonne's personality even though, in her flip but maternal way, she thanked Denny for being a 'good kid' but a superstitious

streak in her held her back from thinking she was out until she was outside the walls of Larkhall for good. There were too many strange twists of fate

in her experience (she crushed back the word 'time') for her liking.

Her spirits rose as she had a friendly chit chat with Denny who laughed at all of her jokes. It touched Yvonne that she had the power to brighten up Denny's

day when she knew how depressed Denny had got after losing Shaz. She had gone in every day into Denny's cell where she had lain, not wanting to move off

her bunk bed unless she had to and even shrugging off Yvonne's offer to help and be there, especially in the beginning.

Somehow she had brightened up. It even made the disgusting overstewed tea from the tea urn, served in blue plastic mugs, palatable.

One of the friendlier prison officers came round with the post and called out to her that there was 'one for her.' She held out her hand to see the envelope

which had been slit open at the top. Some prison officer may, or may not have read the letter before her. Along with the peephole to her cell, that position

of being under 24 hours observation was something she had got used to, if not accepted, at Larkhall.

Chapter Two

Nikki had written and rewritten her letter to Yvonne in some state of confusion. Everything about her present comfortable surroundings and chic clothes

made her feel an uncomfortable gulf between her and the woman she felt an obligation to help and support. She had promised to write to her and keep in

touch with her, as she was one of her closest friends when they were both in prison. Yvonne wouldn't just call a spade a spade, she would call it a bloody

shovel and that endeared itself to the depths of Nikki's nature as she prized that direct, 'look you straight in the eyes' honesty above all else.

She was perched on the corner of an old polished mahogany writing table with a waste bin next to her with screwed up pages of words which she felt had drifted

too much into the realm of her life with Helen and not enough to reach out to Yvonne's present and her own fading past. The room was dim apart from a table

lamp, casting a circle of light on the desk where she worked.

Presently, she felt a light hand on her shoulder and Helen looking quizzically at the contents of the letter Nikki was writing. A mug of coffee was placed

carefully on a corner of the writing table near an ashtray starting to overflow with cigarette ends.

"You never give up working, Nikki, except when you are asleep." came Helen's light joking tones. And before Nikki could flare up at her, Helen said that

she understood perfectly well why Nikki was writing, that she admired her for writing and taking herself back to a world that she had every reason that

she would sooner forget.

"That's just it, Helen. We've got a comfortable, free lifestyle and only a few months after I got out, all the memories started to flood back, the petty

restrictions, that I couldn't go and see a film if I wanted, go out for a drink- with you obviously- " Nikki added just in time."It's guilt, stupid though

it sounds- and I'd like to write as if we were chatting away in a cell like we used to except my world has moved on and hers is still the same."

"Isn't Yvonne due for release soon, now?" Helen's photographic memory was scouring the outermost reaches of her mind."Unless that bastard Fenner has planted

something on her to knock her release date back, she should be out very soon."

Nikki's face brightened and she returned to her letter with renewed energy and the words flowed off her pen in her characteristically neat well formed script.

"………I know well enough that it is a while since Helen and I left Larkhall and I know bloody well enough that if I came up with a load of well meaning crap,

you would be the first to tell me but believe me when I say that both of us have moments when you are in our thoughts. Helen won't forget how foolishly

she gave the OK to the Larkhall Tabernacle Choir which was as sharp a bit of rule bending that she can remember and still makes her smile. I can remember

that as I was busy elsewhere with the 2 Julies and I missed all the fun of seeing Bodybag's face.

I don't know for sure when you are due to get out but Helen tells me it is pretty soon now and her memory is like NASA computer centre so it must be right.

I remember, above all, you when I last left Larkhall and telling me not to come back as I would have you to reckon with. I won't forget that as I know what

you were thinking of. If I have got it right, we'd look forward to seeing you on the outside. All the old gang I still have fond memories of and won't

forget. There are some at Larkhall through choice who I also won't forget but not in the same way!!

Yours ever

Nikki

Chapter Three

A big grin spread over Yvonne's face when she read the letter. It was typical Nikki, which she had cunningly pitched just short of getting the letter censored.

Even if Bodybag had opened the letter, she would have been so stupid that she would never have worked out Nikki's parting shot. Yes, it also spoke of a

much more relaxed Helen who used to come over as a bit of a prig sometimes though she made up for it in doing her best to nail that bastard Fenner. It

was a chink of light from the outside world but it cast rays of hope for the future, not some cruel mockery that the light would be switched off letting

her know what she was missing. The 2 Julies had filled Yvonne in on the number of times Nikki had been banged up in segregation and that she was known

as the most difficult prisoner in Larkhall.

"I see you had a letter from that Nikki Wade, the biggest troublemaker we've ever had here…….." Bodybag's voice broke in Yvonne's fond reminiscences.

"You don't mean, Sylvia," Yvonne came back at her with a mocking grin, "that I'm only the second biggest troublemaker. I'll have to do something about that

one, won't I Denny, " turning to Denny's equally grinning face whose reply was 'yeah, you show them, man'

"Now then, now then I'm not having the smooth running of this wing disrupted by you. In any case," Bodybag said hastily, changing the topic of conversation

that was quick by her standards, "The letter looks as if Stewart and Wade are very cosy together. Didn't take long for Prisoner's Friend Stewart to move

in with Wade." Bodybag said with all the bile in her judgmental nature that came naturally to her.

"You mean, like you and Bobby at your anniversary party. I was serving drinks and I saw you and Bobby arguing and I thought to myself, I've never seen a

more devoted couple in all my life." Yvonne smirked. Jesus she walks into them every time.

"We remember, Yvonne," Julie Johnson jumped in. "I remember her Bobby walking out just because she was offering herself to Dominic."

"Poor sod" they muttered in unison referring to Dominic.

"That's enough, get back to your work everyone or you'll all be on report." yelled Bodybag trying to make up with assertiveness what she lacked in inches

but the blush on her face reminded her of past events she would sooner forget. "Where's Jim when he is needed." she muttered .

As if on cue, the angry face of Fenner yelled "Quiet everybody, quiet, that's enough." In the tone that Bodybag wished she could summon up. They all shut

up, partly because of Fenner and partly as they had had their fun and group instinct told them when to stop when the going was good.

Yvonne thought that this was a typical lighthearted day in Larkhall that fed into the stream of events that carried her along. Up till recently, she never

thought any different but a little voice in her head told her life would change. One half of her longed for the freedom to come, the other half was afraid

of it. She crushed the thought as it struggled to the service on the drilled in instinct not to plan for the future till she was sure of the power to plan

it with.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Helen looked sideways at Nikki with a little concern. There was a grin all over her face while she was writing the letter and Helen had smiled at the events

which Nikki had referred to. They were the sort of inconsequential moments that any reunion would spark off over glasses of wine in a pub room. But this

was different, as much as for her as well as Nikki. They had spent the first few weeks talking over the ups and downs in their relationship as a healing

process that both had to go through and that was like skating over thin ice for both of them. But this was the first time that either of them had talked

about anything outside that segment of their life at Larkhall. There was so much to do for the present that the past was left behind, sealed over in a

casket and buried. But these things have a habit of coming back to life judging by the frown on Nikki's face and that look of isolation. She was unusually

quiet that night and that is not the Nikki that she had come to know and care for.

Chapter Four

Yvonne went to her cell to write a letter. There was a private side of her that let the defences slip, that allowed her to cry when that tart Renee Williams

had told her she had been shagging Charlie, where the hard defensive cool shell cracked wide open. This was side of her that she got to hide

when she was around Charlie's gang that used to come around and get pissed on her booze. Charlie would never allow some soft cow of a wife hanging around

drooping on his shoulders when he was trying to be hard in front of his mates, that was the great unwritten rule of the East End. As much as she had also

been brought up that way by her own parents to be tough and hard, she knew enough of life to realise the limits of this upbringing. The tenderness she

could let herself feel came first from being a mother, from watching over and protecting Lauren, yes even Ritchie as well when he let her, as they were

growing up. It was funny the way she got to being Mum to all the young kids at Larkhall that needed a bit of mothering though Denny was her favourite.

This was to keep her thinking of Lauren who was stuck on the outside. Only now, in a private minute at a stolen segment of the day she wanted to convey

her thoughts back to the home that was left to her, to Lauren.

Yvonne reflected to herself that it was funny to look back on things that the first thing she thought when the first shock of imprisonment hit her was that

thank God that Charlie would take care of all the business. He would see things right and manage everything, as he boasted in his normal fashion. She had

confidence in him or so she thought. Charlie would fix everything, sort the money out . How times changed when she realised how she'd been had for a mug

and how the hit man she hired went pear shaped on her. At least Lauren was grown up and could stand on her own two feet and be more reliable than Charlie

ever was.

Yvonne chewed on her biro. What could she say about the normal chit chat of Larkhall life when she was beginning to compare it with the great wide world

outside where Lauren lived.

Suddenly a loathed shape appeared in the doorway.

"Oh hi," Snowball's insincere voice grated on Yvonne's nerves. "Have you heard about that Fenner guy? He's such a creep. He tried to come on to me when

I was in the chapel this morning. Isn't there a sacred place where he will let God in as the good guy into his heart instead of trying to touch me up?"

"You'd better report it to bleeding St Paul and see if he can get the hotline to God to strike the bastard dead,"Yvonne answered in scathing tones. She

looked the woman up and down to see if there is some honest bone in her body. She was more worried, if anything, if the bitch was coming on friendly. Miss

Tracy Pilkington's suntan and American accent were as fake as her religion. She just gave her the creeps and didn't want her to be around. She was remembering

the old times when Nikki and Babs were still there and with the 2 Julies were the brains and brawn between them; they kept G wing from fighting each other

and things straight. This bitch was after her own schemes and she didn't give a shit about anyone else. "If you excuse me, I'm writing a letter home, Merriman.

One's company, two's a crowd if you get what I mean. Go complain to Betts about your boyfriend, she'll appreciate it."

And Snowball took herself off leaving Yvonne to her thoughts. She rejected the first two letters as either too flip or just rambling about nothing when

she finally got it right.

"It feels funny writing to you, Lauren, with my day of release coming that bit nearer. I'm sure some of the screws feel either that they can't wait to see

the back of me or jealous that I'm free while they're still working in this dump. It feels strange that I won't wake up and meet Denny and the Julies at

breakfasttime or have a natter in one of our cells. This sounds as if I'm going soft in the head wanting to stay on after I get released but that's not

true. It's just that I won't finally believe that I'm out till I get out of the gates and look back and realise that they can't drag me back into the cells.

It gives me a funny feeling right now.

I hope you are getting on OK with the business and the lads are doing what you are telling them. I'm sure you scare the shit out of them if any of them

mess up. After all you are my daughter.

.Well, Lauren, that about finishes things up. The human zoo doesn't change. It's funny now to think that I'll be away out of here and the Fenners and Bodybags

will try it on with the next batch of prisoners. Only I'll be out of here.

Love

Yvonne "

It was late afternoon and, after sealing up the letter for later on, Yvonne's eyelids drooped down as she lay on her bunk and she made herself comfortable.

The pen slipped from her trailing fingers and landed lightly on the cell floor where it lay.

Chapter Five

Nikki can't believe where she is and the nightmare world she has been plunged into. Where is the cosy flat that she shared with Trisha, her favourite CD's

carefully treasured, next to the player and under the overflowing bookcase with books jammed in that she could not part with? Where are the space and comfort

of the flat they shared and most of all Trisha? She feels that half of her is dragged away from her leaving this incomplete person to try and make sense

of her new surroundings. And what are they, a narrow double cell that makes her feel physically confined enough if it were not the brutally shaped heavy

green door which clanged to and shut her in according to someone else's rules, not hers. Once the surly faced jailer heaved the door shut for the night

and turned the lock, she is confined to the cell. She looks around and she sees that the little garret window is situated to the top of the cell and, stretching

up, she can look out of the small confined field of vision into the front yard with the solid wooden gates in the distance further hemming her in. She

turns back to take in the narrow hard bunk bed, the postage stamp of a noticeboard to pin any personal pictures on and the tiny locker to keep her belongings

in and the narrow wardrobe where by a real creative effort of the imagination, what clothes she could take with her are hung up on the cheap twisted metal

coathangers which are fastened to the rail.

These are trivial matters when she comes to take in her cellmate, Carol Dunn.

"Got any gear," she asks sullenly, her bleached blond long tangled hair flopped over her thin drawn face.

Nikki is dazed with shock and incomprehension when she says politely that she didn't know what she meant.

"You're no pissing use, then," Carol snarls at her waving a small polythene packet of brown powder."Just watch out for the screws while I get this inside

of me." Nikki can see that Carol is so impersonal that all she cares about are the drugs and Nikki doesn't exist to her as another human being. None of

this, excuse me while I inject myself with heroin. Nikki is horrified as Carol heats the mixture in water with a spoon and fills the syringe. Nikki cannot

believe this as all her past life spent in running the club with Trisha and the odds and sods of jobs since she was kicked out of boarding school, has

not prepared her for sharing a prison cell in such close proximity with a junkie. For the first time in her life, Nikki does not know where to put herself

and this is not like Nikki.

"Wanna watch, so you can see how it's done, " Carol sneered looking her in the face, half sneer, half invitation.

"No thanks, Carol. I'd sooner stick to something natural and herbal," Nikki replies with a shaky laugh. "I don't wan't to get in your way."

"Good then" and Nikki was dismissed from Carol's mind as she ties off her arm and inserts the needle into the ugly mark on her wrist which is her passport

to oblivion. She presses down on the plunger and holds it like that.

"Excuse me, I think I'm going to be sick" and as her stomach heaves, Nikki makes a run for the toilet which she gets to just in time. This is the most miserable

moment of her life as she props herself above the toilet with water dripping off her nose and a feeling of total wretchedness. She does her best to spit

the sick out of her mouth and reaches for a mug of water to clear the horrible taste out of her mouth.

Nikki turns around to see Carol leaning with her back to the cell wall, head lolling sideways, her eyes closed and the syringe lying on the floor and the

tye curled next to it like an evil black viper. At this point, Nikki screams…

……………And in the middle of the night, Helen called out to the sweating, rigid shape next to her who had woken her up when she started threshing around in

her nightmare.

"It's all right, Nikki, sweetheart, it's all right, you're safe." And Helen held Nikki to comfort her and wake up from the nightmare Nikki had been living

through. Jesus, she had never seen Nikki like this. Nikki was rigid and shaking from a dream that was utterly real, her first few days at Larkhall that

she thought she had forgotten as the tough street wise Nikki had taken her place with the razor sharp wit that had seen off the likes of Shell Dockley

and Fenner likewise.

"My favourite CDs and books, they're all safe." Nikki gasped with relief as what was precious all her life was still there and helped to heal the scars.

She had always been particular about them and were assembled in a pattern that was particular and special.

"Where else should they be?" Helen asked with a puzzled frown of incomprehension on her face."You guard them like they are totally precious. What's the

matter, Nikki, you'd better explain." And Helen looked straight into Nikki's eyes with those big eyes that expressed all the sympathy in the world,

"It was before you came to Larkhall, Hel," Nikki sighed and the way she put it, made an observer who didn't know otherwise that they had been the same side

of the prison bars. Nikki smiled weakly at that."When I first came to Larkhall, I wasn't the 'prisoner from hell' that you first knew. I was totally new

to all this. I was shut up in this cell with this addict who was jacking up every night in the cell each evening. It was horrible. I never knew that there

were things like that that went on. And I thought I was pretty tough. " Nikki put her hands to her head as the full force of the memory came back to her

and she could see it all in front of her but this was not a dream.

"What happened to her." Helen asked softly.

"And you the Wing Governor with all your files?" Nikki smiled more convincingly, her body starting to relax, "Fenner had been screwing her and after the

first week, she started mouthing off about it. Fenner went to the Wing Governor before you , John bloody Roberts. He had Carol Dunn shipped out so quick

so fast that her feet didn't touch the floor. I can still hear the screams as she was dragged into the cattle truck. You understand, Helen," Nikki's brown

eyes looked up to Helen wet with tears and pleading for understanding. "I couldn't take another night of her with that bloody needle, I was glad she was

shipped out but a part of myself hated it, and myself for what Fenner had done to her. That's why I stood up for all the other prisoners. You do understand,

don't you?"

Helen's arms round her and the gentle touch of her fingers was proof enough to Nikki. And the close ties of feelings and intuitions around them and they

gradually drifted off to sleep. Helen drifted off to sleep last of all when she could hear the faint sound of Nikki's gentle breathing. Something told

her that this was going to run and run but there was only so much you can do in one night with work for them both in the morning.

Chapter Six

"Pining for your boyfriend, Mr Fenner" Yvonne mockingly called out to the dark glowering shape that caused ripples of tension that were left by in his wake

as he stomped around the wing. "Aaaaah. We understand how you feel, separated from your nearest and dearest."

Fenner whirled round and glared at the woman who he loathed as much as anyone. She saw right through him and that was the unforgivable offence.

"Shut it, Atkins. You and Charlie will remain separated- seeing as he is six feet under and feeding the worms. About all he's good for."

"Ah well, Charlie is history now, mainly bad history. I'm sure that on the outside I can pull any man that takes my fancy." Yvonne replied, still with that

irritating smirk. "Pity we won't be able to have these friendly chats for much longer".

Fenner stormed off on his way home in silence. He was knackered and he had done his shift now.

Yvonne felt that she would always remember these sparring matches with Fenner. This was part of the everyday routine as much as it was that of going to

the shop for her weekly spends and to be told how much she had 'earned' in her weekly regime depending on how the prison programme dictated it. And she

felt she had to watch the bastards in case they cheated her out of what she was due for even if it was as much as a bar of soap. A packet of cigarettes

was something that was bargained for with her mind for reckoning up prison balances week to week. She prided herself that she made sure that she got everything

she was due for.

And what's the first thing you'll do, Yvonne, when you're out of this bloody rubbish dump?" Julie Saunders asked her when they were all in the four bed

dorm that night before lights out.

"Well…………….."Yvonne said thoughtfully. "I'll get hold of the best bottle of booze that there is around, or go out on the town to go on the pull, something

like that tasty solicitor that came to visit me once and…" and Yvonne's voice tailed off when she realised that the 2 Julies would be at Larkhall for another

4 to 5 years at the least with full remission after they had acted towards Rhiannon's pimp lover in a way Yvonne would have done except that the little

rat would have been terminally dead, like being part of the foundations for London's newest skyscraper if Yvonne were in the Julie's that moment,

Yvonne was totally guilt stricken to see the sadness in Julie Johnson's ideas to realise that there were no early reunions , that might have been, for

her with David and David's father. Yvonne was looking sightlessly into empty space till the memory of another eve of release came back to her mind. Was

it only the other day that she heard Nikki's voice asking Monica to 'take a good look around'……at Denny, at the 2 Julies , and finally herself and that

….'everyone who gets out, gets out for all of us.' Yes Nikki had said that and she meant it with all the intensity and passion in her personality that

she could summon up. She said that even though she was banged up for life, not just a few years. 'Take a good look around……..take a good look around',

the words echoed round in her head.

Julie Saunders saw Yvonne and was dead worried for her. She had been the life and soul of the party as she always was and now had a strange expression in

her eyes. Everything went dead quiet and no one knew where to put theirselves for a second. For God's sake, it was supposed to be a party. Surely Yvonne

can see that she means all the world to us all. Yvonne won't forget them. She'll come and visit, it's just that the screws won't be able to tell her what

to do, even less than now.

"Are you all right, Yvonne." Julie asked, flapping a tissue in Yvonne's face that brushed her face," You're making us dead worried about you."

Yvonne's thoughts came down to landing just in time and a slow smile spread across her face.

"Never felt better, girls. It's fun seeing Bodybag and Fenner right now, Don't they just hate it."

Chapter Seven

"Where did I put my car keys, Helen? Why does everything I put down to keep safe always get moved." Nikki called out to Helen in the next room with an unaccustomed

tetchiness in her voice. They had both overslept and were running round in a last flurry to get to work on time.

"Where it always is, Nikki." Helen's very carrying voice called back with a touch of anger in her voice. Surely to God couldn't Nikki see that they could

do without all this last minute hassle.

"It is not on the hook, like I always keep it." Nikki's sharper tones responded.

Helen said nothing but stalked into the living room and pointed with a triumphant finger at the bunch of keys in their accustomed place. Nikki had put them

there the night before, all ready for her, on automatic pilot, to spot them out of the corner of her eye, whip them into her coat pocket as she had done

every day. These kind of day to day actions were done without Nikki even thinking about them, they belonged to the click, click, click of daily life that

functioned like an automaton quite aside from the more deliberate choices that needed more thought in her life. She had, so she had thought, adjusted quickly

back to her pre prison ways of functioning in the outside world much more easily than she had thought. Perhaps this was because her release from prison

was such a close run thing that, not until Di Barker had told her "You're free, Nikki" in her ear did she dare let herself believe that what she most passionately

wanted all those months had at last come true.

"I can't believe it, Helen." Nikki said, slowly shaking her head. "I'm really sorry. I swear to God that I never saw the keys till now. They must have been

there all along." She could not in all conscience say otherwise than that she had genuinely not seen what was right in front of her eyes. This was not

the sort of mistake she normally made and the fact that her habitual way of working had slipped unsettled her.

Helen bit back her tongue from any 'I told you so' snappy retort. She saw at one that difficult as it was to believe, Nikki gad made a genuine oversight.

Playing games with people or picking arguments for arguments sake was definitely not Nikki at all.

Neither of them dwelt on the matter at that moment. It was time to be quickly out the door and Nikki let Helen shut the door to. In that moment of aftershock,

she would sooner trust Helen to do that at this moment than trust herself.

Karen Betts was working late at night in her office. It wasn't one of her best days starting off with Sylvia collaring her the moment she popped her way

out of the office.

"Excuse me, ma'am." came Sylvia Hollamby's best ingratiating smile."But I was wondering if you've heard any more news when that Snowball Merriman is going

to be shipped out to America. These shoulders are broad but I've been having to put up with complaint after complaint by the prison officers that she's

stuck here because of official red tape in holding things up. Not that I blame them, you know." sniffed Bodybag. "It only takes a signature on some document

and a one way airline ticket and there's one unnecessary problem off our backs."

Karen's smile was not inviting but concealed her continual distaste at the lowlife conniving that Sylvia was capable when it suited her. Karen loathed the

guts as much as anyone of that callous woman whose original crime shrank into insignificance in comparison with the enormity of what she had done at Larkhall

in so short a period of time. To make a bid to escape is something that morally she couldn't object to, not even Yvonne Atkins rope ladder trick over the

walls of Larkhall and the punchup with her afterwards. What she could not forgive was Snowball's utter lack of remorse at the consequences of the explosion

that burnt a fellow prisoner to death and came very close to killing several others by smoke inhalation and burns. She remembered Jim Fenner's incredulous

expression when he recounted to her that Snowball 'didn't give a shit'- and that from Jim Fenner, the most unprincipled man she had met by a long chalk.

Yet at the end of the day, justice must be done and not some vigilante 'quick fix' like Sylvia's consignment of Shell to the muppet wing. Once you abandon

these principles, you become no better than the prisoners that you lock up.

"You know as well as I do that the matter is in the hands of the legal authorities of both countries and there is sod all that I can do. Who knows, some

jobsworth in America is turning up his nose wondering why an English citizen is being foisted on them when they have enough problems with their home grown

gun toting crazies?" Karen snapped back wondering why this sudden inclination to talk like someone in a second rate American cop film kept breaking to

the surface every so often.

"I'm sure you may be right," Bodybag fawned on her."The standard of public service in America is not what you and I are brought up to. They may think they

are good at winning wars but not when it comes to the daily routines. Too many of those gangster films and cowboy films, mark my words."

Karen sighed, her patience at breaking point and conscious that her raised eyebrow felt permanently stuck. How unsubtle in her sarcasm does she have to

get for this brain dead woman to get her drift?

"I'll let you know of any developments, Sylvia. Please reassure everyone that I am doing the utmost to speed things up through the proper channels. I know

as well as you do what a bad influence Snowball is having on the wing. Now if you excuse me, I've got budgets to work through."

Chapter Eight

It was several hours later when she had plodded through a set of figures that made halfway sense that she put it aside. This was a part of her job that

gave her the greatest headaches. Why was it that she was here in the first place, anyway? It wasn't as if when she was a little girl, she played with handcuffs.

No, a flash of memory took her back to playing nurses and she was the one to improvise a bandage from her father's large handkerchiefs in a side drawer

that she used to sneak up and borrow. She sort of stumbled into this job and now here settled down it for the comfort blanket of the familiar and for job

security.

She sighed and picked up a bulky file marked "Yvonne Atkins". She had a lot of files to look through to check the work of the personal officers. Before

her eyes were her past notes, including in angry red script 42 days loss of remission when Yvonne Atkins had a row with that posh woman. She couldn't remember

her name but a mental image of her looking across the same desk she is sitting at now with a mixture of scorn, condescension and determination when she

applied for a retest of her urine sample…….Further on, are her more evenly written notes, calmly and apologetically thoughtout which gave Yvonne Atkins

her remission back…Without it, she wouldn't be out in a couple of days.

A further thought crossed her mind remembering when Helen Stewart used to talk to her on her pet theory that you need the cooperation of the prisoners to

properly run the prison. If it were the case, then what influence for good or bad is Yvonne Atkins? Certainly, she can see from Helen Stewart's early notes

how angry she was at the time that Yvonne Atkins had cleverly taken advantage of the rule that "…..each prisoner has the right to possess one guitar for

their recreational use…….." Throughout the file are Sylvia Hollamby's indignant notes that "that Atkins woman is a continual disruptive influence to the

good running of the wing," that "she has a bad influence on the younger women on the wing." Well, smiled Karen to herself, if she were on the other side

of the prison bars, she wouldn't be greatly respectful herself being just the sort of teacher figure that she and her little gang at school used to play

up. And neither is she respectful of the short cuts and sloppy standards that Sylvia has been guilty of time after time.

Ah well, in a few days time this bulky file will be consigned to the lower depths of the filing cabinet for dormant files, just another set of paperwork

while Yvonne Atkins will be out in the big wide world while she is still in Larkhall behind prison bars. Only difference is that this is her living and

this pays her bills.

Karen looked up after musing to herself for she didn't know how long. She was bathed in a circle of light from the anglepoise lamp on her desk while outside

it were the forgotten darkness of her office where everything merged into anonymous shadows. There was utter silence.

Jesus, it was time to go home, Karen thought as she looked at her watch. Anyone would think she lived here.

Chapter Nine

Helen was quietly working away in her office on her PC trying to concentrate on her work in hand but thoughts kept floating through her mind. Life was good

with Nikki around, filling up the hole that had been there, unnamed and unfelt, in her life. She remember the feeling of that emptiness coming to the surface

with a vengeance from the moment when she was sat on the settee with her thoughts churning around and listening to Sean droning on about his parents and

how 'they' were going to tell them to get stuffed when his parents were to announce big plans for them to have the traditional white wedding That was what

life was about, surely, wasn't it, so Sean's parents thought and wasn't that romantic dream was what she wanted from when she first started to read teenage

magazines? They were to have a simple registry office do instead or so Sean had in mind. All that seemed to be a lifetime ago and a different Helen Stewart.

And it was Nikki Wade who had set her free that way, Nikki the strong certain one who, from the moment that she had been set free, worked so hard to prove

her to herself, perhaps too hard. All that natural drive, bottled up for so long by the restrictions of a prison regime, had been unchained by the freedoms

of life outside with a blast of energy. Helen had accepted it all, that the Nikki Wade unchained would be different from the prisoner and Helen always

tended to push herself too hard in the belief that some day her ungiving father would let the words free from his unyielding rigid jaws to say, yes Helen,

you had done well. Helen had walked that mental tightrope when she was a young inexperienced Wing Governor and struggled every inch of the way till she

couldn't take any more and fell off the wire. Thoughts flitted through her mind of that holiday she took and images of lying stretched out on a foreign

beach looking at the sands through her dark glasses hearing the reassuring sounds of children playing and taking herself back to childhood. She saw as

if behind a dark screen removed from reality a typical English tourist, newly red faced, seeing a suntanned attractive woman and fancying his chances for

some holiday romance. He never knew that a certain dark haired woman was buried at the bottom of Helen's dreams which she denied to herself with the help

of the surface dreaminess of sunshine on the beach. So she smiled and went through the ritual moves till, still smiling sweetly, she declined the offer

to go elsewhere than go back to her hotel. There, in the dead of night, she avoided confronting her invisible questioner asking her how could she face

the end of the holiday, to climb back into the snake pit and to face the one human being who would help her but who frightened and attracted her at the

same time. But this ghost was laid to rest, wasn't it now?

She must have a proper talk to Nikki tonight, she can recognise the signs for all to see from all she could sense of her own past and her own battles that

the past of Larkhall has come back to haunt her. And all from a humorous letter to Yvonne Atkins, born of guilt and a desire to be of use to an old mate

still on the inside. The ironical thought is that Nikki's letter was intended to be a greeting till they shortly met on the outside and Nikki had not wholly

left the dump. She needs to talk to Nikki and be there for her tonight. And with that thought she attacked the latest pile of papers in front of her with

her own manic energy.

Where Nikki worked in another office, she heard the latest empty chat about the serial killer in Corrie and they wondered who it turned out to be. Normally,

all that went over her head as she worked away but just today, it really got to her. Do these empty headed women whose noses are stuck in the latest "Celebrity"

magazines have half an idea what life can be really like? Killers, she knew them well, she was / is one, little did they know and one of her best friends

had taken a contract to kill someone which was the same thing. It was like an irritating TV programme she couldn't turn off and, Jesus, they were sounding

like one of those moronic programmes she had to suffer through in Larkhall with the one shared set they had.

"For Christ's sake, can you all shut up about Corrie. It isn't the be all and live all of everything." She suddenly snapped when it all got too much for

her.

Four or five blank mystified faces stared in utter amazement at this thought that they couldn't get their heads around.

"Do you mind, Nikki. We were trying to have a private conversation if you don't mind.," said a woman with long fair wavy hair.

Nikki fought down her anger. That woman Tina sounded like a pale, non psychotic replica of Shell but she ought to be fair, she'd never tortured anyone in

her life, at least not deliberately.

"I'm sorry, Tina. I don't want to get in your way and OK, it's a free country. Only I've got a pile of work to get clear and I appreciate it if you could

just talk a little softer, that's all."

Nikki smiled a winning smile, exercising all the self control she was capable of.

Tina thought for a moment .She didn't want to upset Nikki not out of any real concern for her. It was just that while Nikki was a bit different and strange

and sort of removed and definitely not like us girls, she had a knack of looking right through her that instinctively told Tina not to cross her. She even

dressed a bit differently from the rest of them, she was smart enough but didn't make an attempt to go for the blond suntanned look that the rest of them

adopted from the magazine pages. Funny that she never talked about boyfriends the way the rest of them did, not that that was any great problem. What she

did with her own life wasn't her bloody problem. Tina kept a puzzled uncomprehending expression on her face till her recall of the choicest moments came

back to her mind. It was the best moment as TV Quick said it was So she turned to her best friend Sharon and got back into motormouth gear but just a little

softer.

Nikki couldn't give a damn why they were quieter, just that she felt a little calmer after dealing with the situation. And because she was that bit less

stressed, she was able to blank the conversation from her mind and attack the work before her with a bit more positive feeling. She was safe at work which

anaesthetised her thoughts. It was when she was out of this comforting framework that her pulse started racing and her thoughts went anywhere.

Chapter Ten

"You've got a visitor, Atkins" Fenner snarled at her. "Another member of your criminal family come to see you for one last time."

"Yeah, Mr Fenner." Yvonne's hard eyes bored straight through Fenner as they verbally locked horns for what might be the last time." Lauren's come to present

you with a bleeding bouquet of roses for looking after me so well in the time I've been in this dump."

Fenner slunk off down the corridor and bellowed orders to the Julies to report to Mrs Hollamby for a job she'd got lined up for them straight away and no

messing about.

"Get him, he's got out the wrong side out of bed this morning. " Julie Saunders said pulling a face.

"Depends on which bed he's climbed out of, his wife's or some stupid tart's……..."

The 2 Julies grinned with Yvonne at this . Then in a more reflective mood, Yvonne let the thought cross her mind that, in three days time, she's out of

here. No, don't even think of that you soft cow, Yvonne scolded herself, just think of the screws, Fenner and Bodybag for starters who'd love to see the

look on her face if the way out of prison was slammed shut in her face at the last moment.

Yvonne moved off down the narrow corridor and for another time, slipped the red bib over her head, the token of the short period of limited freedom that

the prison service allowed. Time after time, she'd accepted this routine without question but now it flashed across her mind that soon, she could see Lauren

when she wanted to. There would come the time when the clock would be disconnected forever that ticked away the time left before Bodybag's bellowing call

for prisoners to leave. She threaded her way into the shabby impersonal room and waited for the call for the visitors to come flooding in.

"You remain in your places until you are called and no kissing and cuddling and passing of unauthorised objects between you." Bodybag's hated parade ground

voice disturbed the sights and sounds of visitors picking out their loved one amidst the throng and their faces lighting up with joy.

Lauren came in her best smart leather jacket and her dark glossy hair done up in a bun. See how she carries herself with confidence and assurance, Lauren

thought proudly to herself. All these past few years she's come, reliable as clockwork and has kept me going through thick and thin, through all the ups

and downs in my life. It wasn't easy on her the first few times. I can remember how nervous she was but she didn't seem much more than a child then. There's

Mum in her best outfit as usual, Lauren thought. There's a real smile on her face and not the fake prop she used at times to try and hide from me how shit

her life was going at times. For the same reason, she's always worn her smartest clothes that somehow had stood up to the rigours of the Larkhall Prison

laundry. At last, she's accepted that I am not a kid to be patted on the head and to be reassured when there was no reason for reassurance. It was force

of circumstances that put her out of action of being in charge of the family business and for me to take her place.

"Hey, Mum," whispered Lauren. "We've got Betts honouring us with a visit. It is, of course, because this is the last time I'll need to come here."

Yvonne, with her back to the entrance to the visiting room, hadn't noticed Karen Betts enter the room. After pounding her way through budgets, she thought

she would clear her head a bit and keep an eye on Sylvia as much as the prisoners. Karen's raised eyebrows indicated to Sylvia to carry on with her usual

routines while she sat in the raised seat to the side of where the visits were. Karen went to check on the paperwork that was completed by the duty officers,

occasionally looking up to take in what was going on around her.

Trust Madam to come out and poke her nose in when it wasn't wanted, fumed Bodybag, or more exactly, when she didn't want it. She was at her happiest being

the top person in charge lording it over the Basic Grade prison officers and prisoners alike except, of course, Jim who could always be counted on to back

her up. Nothing pleased her better than to lay down the law as to exactly when the visitors could cease to mill around in a timid huddled mass to move

over to where the cons were. She hated all this kissing and cuddling as, to her way of thinking, if the cons hadn't done wrong, they wouldn't be there

in the first place. She had especial venom for the women who were all lovey dovey to the men who came to visit them and then moved back to married quarters

with the woman that they were sharing cells with. She had caught Shaz and Denny out in unnatural behaviour and told Madam that lesbian behaviour was in

the rulebook of forbidden activity and all Madam said was "Do you want your job to become more difficult." And that a few rules should be bent. As far

as Bodybag, rules are rules and were meant to be obeyed. Otherwise they wouldn't have been there in the first place.

"Jesus, is Miss Betts smiling at me?" Yvonne asked Lauren incredulously as she saw a particularly sunny smile directed in her direction unless some happy

train of thought from inside Karen Betts's mind spilled over in an unfocussed way in their general direction.

"She's probably thinking she'll be getting shot of you, Mum." Lauren laughed. "I mean is there anyone else that could come up with anything like the Larkhall

Tabernacle Choir."

"But Betts didn't come till later on, unless my memory has got a screw loose…and hers also." Yvonne replied in a puzzled tone.

"She wasn't there but that's not to say she hasn't heard of it." grinned Lauren. "You don't suppose there isn't a little Black Book that's handed down from

governor to governor and there's special chapter written specially about you."

Lauren nattered away at top speed conscious of the need to relay all the details of life on the outside and to ask how mum had got on. She could see out

of the corner of her eye, Bodybag checking her watch wishing the time away and for prison to return to normal, that is without visitors getting in the

way. Bodybag was looking at the Rastafarian couple who were sitting deliberately in the corner acting in a suspicious fashion. They, especially, couldn't

be trusted, as drugs were part of their culture.

"All right, times up," Bodybag called out in a less hectoring fashion with one eye on Madam.

Lauren deliberately dawdled as she left the visiting room as her long suppressed contempt for the sad jobsworth in charge leaked out and this was the last

chance for her to express her contempt for her.

"Make sure the party invitations are sent out, eh Lauren, No unwelcome gatecrashers please." Yvonne said, pitching her voice up for Bodybag's benefit.

"Don't worry. Mum. And by the way you're coming." Lauren's voice carried through the air as she trailed behind the others.

"All right, all right, visiting time's over now. Some of us have got homes to go to." snapped Bodybag, glaring at this young troublemaker who she'd love

to have locked up and to throw away the key.

"Yes, you're right, Miss, I have. I suppose you kip down here, you love this place so much." Lauren insolently replied to Bodybag's fury and Yvonne's delight

as Bodybag slammed the door on Lauren with a resounding thud giving her just enough time to jump out of the way.

Karen sighed as she closed her books. And today was Sylvia's performance of 'best behaviour' for her benefit. God knows how she gets on when I'm not here.

Chapter Eleven

Nikki strolled out into the car park on a bright sunny day. On the face of it, things were fine, the end of a day's work which worked out pretty well considering

the nightmare of last night that she had relived. She was off home for the best part of the day and that was her life with Helen. Automatically, she felt

inside her handbag for her keys with all the sorts of things that cluttered it up and normally she could find them. Only this time, she feverishly fumbled

her way through the sharp flat metallic object attached to a black lump of plastic that should turn up but hadn't. A sudden rush of panic flared up as

she scrabbled her way, finding everything from lipstick holders, purse, credit card holders, all sorts of miscellaneous objects. This cannot be, she thought.

I cannot leave my car in the office car park and bus it home supposing that busses run in the direction I live in. Suddenly in a moment of impulse one

step ahead of fear, she turned her bag upside down and shook out the contents onto the bonnet of her car. She fumbled around in the pile of assorted objects

and, right at the bottom of the pile, there it was. Nikki felt weak with relief and barely able to stand up. She shoved all her possessions into the bag,

opened the car door and sank back into the sanctuary that for one nightmare moment she was afraid would have been denied her. The car door was left open

wide but she did not care. All she wanted was fresh air and the chance to collect her wits.

Nikki felt tired and drained as she lay back in the driver's seat but she had to get herself home. She went to move off as normal but the car shot forward

suddenly as the clutch was let out too quickly and Nikki had to swerve abruptly as the car rocketed forward in the direction of the gatepost. Still travelling

fast, she swung it sharp left onto the road. An angry unseen blast of a car horn flash framed forward to the brief sight of the car in her rear view mirror,

inches away from her. Nikki swore as much as anger with herself, fear of what nearly happened and a blast of rage at another of those bloody hyper maniac

road rage drivers on the road. Nikki could see his mouth moving soundlessly as the flash modern car pulled up level and zoomed off into the distance.

"Bloody stupid bastard, think you own the road." Nikki yelled into the wash of air and car exhaust left behind him. She knew that shouting was ineffective

but she had to let loose some of her feelings.

When she came to the next junction where a major road crossed her path, Nikki's emotions wildly fluctuated the other way to extreme caution and fear. She

wasn't going to take the smallest risk with the cars crossing at right angles in front of her in case the petrol driven projectile with a human being strapped

to it kept on coming and she had misjudged the speed. Another car horn tooted behind her and she panicked and shot across the junction with inches to spare

between her and the car coming at right angles.

After that, everything on her route home, normally as familiar and routine as anything in her life become one jagged nightmare, a world which she felt horribly

out of control of.

Eventually, she turned the corner to her street and pulled up with a sigh of relief behind Helen's car already there.

Nikki grabbed her bag, locked her car and ran into the house to meet Helen with a very real look of concern in her eyes and rushed forward to give her a

hug.

"Nikki, what's happened to you? You look as if you've been through a wringer."

Nikki didn't say anything for a long while. Being held by Helen was the only solid, safe and reassuring thing she felt she had in her world right then.

When she looked back, much later at that moment she could say to herself, quite rationally, that of course that was not the case. She was in charge of

her destiny a million times more than when she was penned up in Larkhall, she had an OK job that at least provided far more material comforts than she

ever had before when one cigarette was something to be prized for that day and a few books borrowed from Larkhall prison library meant riches in comparison

with what she could buy without thinking. Above all, she had the love of a woman as part of ordinary life that she had once spent too many lonely nights

dreaming of. There was everything going for her so why did she get swept up in this emotional freakout that had come in from nowhere that she could not

break away from? So she stood there and clung on to the one thing she did feel that she had in her life till she could trust herself to be able to speak.

As she stood there, her mind briefly travelled back to the time she was in Larkhall and she asked herself, who then did she turn to in times of trouble?

Mostly it was to good friends like Yvonne and Babs who were helpful to a point but it was no substitute for the woman who was there with her and for her,

every inch of the way. At that point the tension in her body began to relax and she let everything all out and to cry on Helen's shoulder.

Chapter Twelve

"You stupid cow" Yvonne was overheard by Snowball to say. She was surprised that there wasn't anyone around obvious that was the target of Yvonne's wrath.

Snowball was keeping a low profile and playing for time to stay in Larkhall for as long as was possible. Even Larkhall for all its Victorian grimness was

infinitely preferable to the parched earth American prisons where fat redneck thuggish guards blatantly preyed on young and vulnerable women and made Jim

Fenner look like a chivalrous gentleman in comparison. This was not forgetting the electric chair either………

Yvonne was, in reality, cursing herself in letting the days go by in not writing back to Nikki while she had the chance to. There was something in prison

life which made it seem 'normal' to lie out on a prison bunk on a sunny afternoon out of boredom because of lack of anything else to do and not to get

on with what needed doing. Prison life was a dreadful insidious sliding slope of thinking to accept the routines dictated to by the prison regime and,

outside that, to let time go to waste. Yvonne became more sharply aware that everyday life at Larkhall for a lot of prisoners was of a mind numbing boredom.

This gradually changed them to the frame of mind of a valium addict wondering fuzzily should she do the simplest task now or later on and expending so

much mental energy in figuring that out. This was part of the reason why so many women turned to drugs with the result that they slid down that slope that

bit quicker and further. It was always at the back of her mind that she was always thinking up all her schemes to keep her mind active and not just the

obvious reasons to flout authority or for the practical benefits of the schemes or even to show everyone that Yvonne Atkins is in charge inside prison

just as much as she was outside. Only in the brief period when she, together with Nikki and others, ran the wing and remembered with delight the natural,

automatic, one, two, three things done and dusted in rapid succession and the centred feeling of being in control of her destiny. Afterwards, she soon

pushed that taste of that normal life to the back of her mind- till recently. Part of the growing feeling that soon she would be out was a hidden fear

of, could she hack it in the outside world?

Having wrenched her will back into working mode; she retired to her cell with a pen and paper. Having settled down, she thought awhile before putting pen

to paper of what Nikki's world might be like.

In another part of the prison, Karen was likewise deep in thought. Her office room was functional, practical like herself with everything in neat order,

at least in her office life. There were a couple of pictures on the wall of faraway landscapes to remind herself twice a year that there were other things

in life than Larkhall Prison.

The focus of her thoughts was Yvonne Atkins. Her thoughts went back to the time of Sylvia's 'mass sick in' which Karen reflected that Sylvia had never been

brought to book for such a clearly concocted scheme. An official strike, yes, something that would be a nightmare of a situation but, for the POA, legitimate.

She saw Sylvia's scheming as morally compromised and a pathetic mass whinge. She remembered seeing Yvonne doing a stand up comedy routine at Jim Fenner's

expense and working up the other prisoner to kick off. Yet come the next day and on her discreet tour of G Wing she saw everything was in order and could

not help but agree with Helen Stewart who, smiling faced told her and Mr Stubberfield that "the women were doing a pretty good job of looking after themselves."

If that is the case, what holds G Wing together? Certainly the prison officers make a difference but ……again memories came back of when Helen Stewart told

her in the good old days before she fell out with Helen that prison officers need the cooperation of the prisoners. Karen shied away from this train of

thought as she did not want to think too much of how much she had pissed Helen off in the way she had taken Jim Fenner's side. What an idiot she was.

If she looks round the prison, who amongst the prisoners has the power? Yvonne certainly and, at one time, Nikki Wade, also after Shell Dockley had been

pushed aside as 'top dog. In a negative and disruptive side, the Peckham Boot Gang grabbed hold of power in G Wing but that is no more. If I try to think

of after Yvonne is set free, G Wing prisoners have no real leader now, not really Denny though she is hard enough, she goes in the direction of whoever

she is attached to. Snowball Merriman is twice the schemer that Shell Dockley ever was but she blew her chances when she set off that explosion. So you

have a bunch of prisoners who could go in any direction. Not a happy prospect.

Karen was deep in thought and her office was quiet as the grave. Not much different from her house when she goes back to it which is equally quiet. Life

these days is up in the morning, put on the personality and uniform that goes with Wing Governor and Miss Betts does a pretty good job, she has to hand

it to her, of appearing cool, calm and in controlled in any situation that comes up. Miss Betts is pretty friendly and approachable but knows where to

lay down the law when she needs to. Miss Betts is a survivor and pretty immune to the pressures of being a modern day Prison Officer. She doesn't let things

affect her personally that way and can take the rough with the smooth, mostly rough these days, as Karen ironically noted. Only who is Karen these days,

the woman who time after time cannot spot a smooth talking bastard for who he is even though Miss Betts does a pretty good job in sorting the sheep from

the goats. What is Karen going to do with her life now that her son Ross is away at University?

Karen could not help but remember coming into the visitor's room where she felt immediate tension, not from the prisoners but from Sylvia as she was cramping

Sylvia's style. She looked at Yvonne and her daughter, Lauren, deep in conversation and the real devotion and closeness to each other was obvious. She

could put herself in Yvonne's shoes as she was another woman who was on her own as their supposed nearest and dearest had let her down. She was glad that

Yvonne had a daughter to be there for her. No one should be alone…………like she is right now. She shivered at the thought and tried to push it away by grabbing

at some more paperwork to go through. She made a mental note to wish Yvonne Atkins when she makes her final farewell. Knowing Yvonne, she won't leave with

a whimper but with a bang. It is in her style, she thought.

Chapter Thirteen

In turn, Yvonne was writing with half an eye on the screws that might not let anything through that was too inflammatory. What could she write to an old

mate who, but for the accident of both of them doing time, she might never have met? Bet Nikki will have sorted her life out on the outside. What would

Nikki be thinking of her, Yvonne thought for a panic stricken moment? You soft cow, she thought to herself, she hasn't just mentally wiped the slate clean

and walked away from Larkhall without a backwards glance or else she would never have bleeding written to her, nor checked with Helen Stewart when she

was due for release. And she'd got the date right.

Dear Nikki

Your letter came at the right bloody time as it cheered me up no end. You got the date dead right and all as I'm out of here in a day or two. I'm the one

who's left it a bit bleeding late to write back. Still, better late than never.

I remember all us girls looking at the TV screen and seeing the news of the appeal .We were over the moon and it was great hearing you giving it to Fenner

in your speech on the steps of the Court of Appeal. You looked about done in when you came out of the court building but you said it all for us. Only person

who didn't like it was Bodybag and she went off in a huff .

Yvonne stopped from the initial flow of words as her thoughts dried up. That was then, what does she say to Nikki now. Looks like Nikki is seeing a lot

of Helen but I can't put any of that in the letter. Yvonne chewed on the top of her biro in thought till inspiration came.

I can't wait to get out of prison but it will seem strange without all the rest of the girls around some of whom I'll really miss. Can't even picture what

the outside world will be like as it seems ages ago that the Old Bill came knocking on my door after my plans went pear shaped. That was when Charlie and

I were together.

I have no idea really what you're doing with your life but I'd love to meet you for old times sake. It gives me a funny feeling that I can suggest going

anywhere but within these four walls when I've been in so long and fixing up a bloody social life is the last thing I could see myself doing. That is going

to change or else my name is not Yvonne Atkins.

Everyone else that you knew wish you all the best.

Yvonne's writing after being on such a roll of feelings as they splurged out in one stream of feelings suddenly came to a halt. She was always stuck as

to how to round off the letter to her best mate. Face to face Yvonne Atkins would have no problems , least of all with Nikki. She eventually thought just

write it as it feels best.

Looking forward to seeing you

Yvonne.

She addressed it from the address Nikki had written on her last letter, and sealed up the letter, pressing hard down on the seal of the envelope to make

sure it stuck. The screws are certain to open the bloody letter, especially as it is going to Nikki whom they won't have forgotten in a hurry but, bugger

it, there's nothing they can object to. Yvonne put the letter carefully on one side with a warm feeling of past good memories and of a job well done. Day

after tomorrow, I'm out.

The 2 Julies were settling down to bed that night after the cell door had clanged shut for the night. Part of Julie Johnson was feeling over the moon at

the letter that had arrived today through the post from David. True, there was the scattering of words that the combined reading of her and Julie Johnson

just about deciphered. The really good news was that David had done brilliantly at his exams, all Grade Bs at the least and a scattering of As, English

being one of them, naturally. David wrote to say that he was stopping on in the sixth form and university was a dead cert (or that was the 2 Julie's version

of David's posh words), The joy and pride in his mother flowed off the pages and that he told everyone it was down to having such a wonderful mum. He had

said it time and time again on the occasions that he saw her and she knew that she loved him to death. She couldn't get away from the bitter feelings inside

that she was around him for so little of his childhood that it was a wonder that he felt that way. Nothing in his eyes could let anyone or anything make

him feel bad of her. Trouble is, it was so easy of her to feel bad of herself and that was something that was around her all the time. She just put on

a brave face especially in trying to be positive around Julie Johnson when she felt down for the exact same reasons. Only mums in prison could feel that

way, Julie Johnson, Yvonne and Roisin as well. You had to live that to know it for sure.

Chapter Fourteen

"All right ,Helen." Nikki spoke in clearer more forceful tones than she usually did. This wasn't, as Helen instinctively realised, Nikki pushing a point

of view forcibly at Helen in an argumentative sense. No, Nikki was pushing at herself. There was a real heroic quality about Nikki that would accept the

most unpalatable news about herself with a real sense of honesty and integrity. The thought to fudge the issue or tell half truths was totally unutterable

and that ingrained instinct operated, even if it was to her disadvantage. Helen loved her for it and admired the fearlessness of her thinking. "I'm not

right in my head. It's not just an isolated freakout, Helen. I know I'm not functioning right. The slightest thing makes me flip and it is not as it should

be. My memory has gone to bloody pieces and the sort of things I used to do without thinking I mess up. I've been overdoing things a bit recently." And

underneath her confident certainty, her brown eyes pleaded for support and validation from Helen.

"Not so easy for me, Nikki, to spot someone else overdoing it even the woman I'm living with." Helen spoke slowly as if she were balancing every word carefully."

But, yes, Nikki, you've got it right. I really want to help you as much as you need Nikki. If nothing else to give back for what you've given to me."

"That's nothing, Helen, but…" Nikki was about to start.

"No I remember way back, when I was Wing Governor, before I went off sick. Don't you remember that when I was getting it from all directions, you were the

one who stopped me going over the edge?"

"I don't understand…." Nikki replied in a puzzled tone.

"Don't you remember, Nikki. If there was any little thing from talk to Monica about appeal, or just being there, even if it was the other side of your cell

door and understanding, you would be pitching in there. I haven't forgotten that, not ever."

Nikki shook her head, remembering. She remembered how she felt then and it was strange that in all this time, they had never talked about that period in

their lives, as there was so much to do in the present. She certainly remembered chasing after Helen to make her fall in love with her. Somehow, she never

fully thought that Helen was also simply grateful to Nikki, more than she ever realised at the time. She always did things that needed doing for people,

friends or lovers without thinking too much of what she had done. She was conscious at the time of giving to Helen when she sensed how Helen was up against

the 'Old Boy's Network' and realised that Helen's first words she ever said about them were for real. She had never fully seen herself through Helen's

eyes and felt her feelings in return.

She was safe for now as the evening sun dipped below the trees and cast dark shadows of the evening across the room. The roles were completely reversed

and now it was Nikki who was clutching out to the lifeline let down by Helen and knowing that Helen would keep her safe and calm, for now. Accepting help

in return for what she had given squared itself with Nikki's stubborn sense of pride and independence. Savouring that knowledge seemed to settle Nikki

as it all added up in her mind and her feelings. Finally, it wasn't just the intensity in Helen's voice with which she put her heart on a sleeve; it was

the hug she got that told her everything.

"Where do we go from here," Helen said softly and slowly, thinking aloud. "I'm not sure where to start." Helen came to a halt looking closely at Nikki while

her mind thought furiously wondering which way. She knew that Nikki was hanging on her every word. "If someone came to you, in exactly the same situation

what would you say, Nikki." Helen finished more confidently with a slight challenging smile on he lips.

"Well……….." Nikki started off, clearly intrigued by this approach and mentally congratulating Helen for pulling this 'bunny out of a very small hat'. "I

would start thinking counselling but I would be a bit worried in case she got some councillor who would lay everything on her being an out lesbian for

as long as she can remember…"

"Which is known to be absolutely no problem at all as we know………."

"I'd say that Nikki Wade is getting some pretty scary flashbacks from her time in Larkhall, that's an obvious one." Nikki spoke more evenly nodding firmly

as she sprang that thread of thinking out of the mixed up whirl of feelings.

"And how difficult, do you reckon, that it has been for Nikki to settle back into a normal job after doing time, and with the people she's working with?"

Helen's very softly spoken words threaded themselves into the dialogue.

"Very difficult, more so than Nikki has been prepared to admit. I think, no I am sure, she's bottled it all up when she's started work. She's never told

anyone that she's done time and she's wanted to prove that she can move mountains so no one can point the finger. She gets hurt more than she admits by

ignorant tossers- " there, her calm reflective tone of voice took on an angry tone before dropping back to this calm stream of consciousness speaking "so

her way of coping is to cover up. In this case I'd say, she's worked way too hard and blown her fuses."

"And do you think that Nikki has reacted all through her life to anyone who has criticised without understanding, who doesn't see the Nikki Wade I know

and love?" Helen's clear voice articulated, so softly just pitched in a whisper but clear for Nikki to hear.

Nikki's eyes, which had been looking far into the distance, suddenly focussed in on Helen and she nodded emphatically. Nikki felt a lift in her spirits

that she had, thanks to Helen, a handle on the situation.

"Yes, that's it Helen. That has been me since I was a little girl, as far back as I remember."


	2. Part Two

DISCLAIMER: All the characters used within this story are the property of Shed Productions. I am using them solely to explore my creative ability.

Both Sides of the Prison Walls

By

Richard

Chapter Fifteen

The cell door to the 2 Julies cell was left hospitably open when Denny mooched past, looking long faced and downcast. Julie Saunders took that in with a

flash and waved and called out to her. Denny's face brightened up making her look curiously younger than her years and made herself comfortable.

"Everything all right, Denny." Julie Saunders asked with a big smile

"Yeah, man, great," Denny replied unconvincingly. "Still it's nice you asking after me. At least someone notices."

The tone that crept back into her voice told the 2 Julies in turn everything. "It's Yvonne, getting out tomorrow. Don't worry, we understand, we're your

mates, aren't we."

Denny fished in her loose trouser pocket and flipped open a crumpled cigarette packet and angled the cigarette end to the flame from her lighter. It gave

her time to work out her feelings as she took a big puff and blew smoke into the air.

"You're right, man. It's that Yvonne's around so long she's been a real Mum to me and it scares me she's going. I can't tell her that and ruin her day for

her. She's going back to her daughter Lauren, and………."

"We know, love." They broke in, in near unison chorus.

"Lauren's cool, Julies." Denny went on in a less confused tone. At isolated moments when she'd seen her own Mum in visiting, she'd seen an attractive dark

haired classy woman with a posh accent stare down Fenner and Bodybag with total disdain and get away with it. She definitely looked and sounded like an

up market version of Yvonne. Besides, it was Lauren who fixed up for her mother to collect the money Yvonne gave her even if it end up with her going back

on the piss.

"It's that, first I lose Shaz, then Yvonne, though that's not the same thing " as Denny hastily excused herself, blushing a bit. "It's just that I know

she'll not be around for me once she's on the outside."

The 2 Julies were worried. They could remember the Denny who was totally thuggish and would hit or kick anyone Shell told her to without the slightest provocation.

First sight of Denny and they picked up something edgy and paranoid about her manner. Then, face to face, they spotted that her face was expressionless

and her eyes were dead. The way she glared made even Fenner not want to push his luck All the tattoos on her arms and around her neck made her look a real

'hard case' not to mention the muscles on her. They used to keep their distance from Denny in particular, as the Julies were mates with Nikki and Denny

more than mates with Shell. It was one of the basic unwritten rules of prison life of deciding which gang you were attached to. Denny had changed out of

all recognition since those days. She's like an excitable kid, she's got a nice smile now and dead friendly and easy going.

"You've got us, Denny." Julie Johnson said with all the warmth in her voice she could summon up as if to reassure an upset child. "It's not like we're going

anywhere. Just look round, no holiday brochures for Benedorm are there? You hang around with us."

Denny looked thoughtfully at them without speaking. The 2 Julies had always been a little in the background .Her life had revolved round, first with Shell,

then Shaz and the comforting mother figure of Yvonne always there as a solid reassuring presence. Then a puzzled worried expression crept across her face.

"I'd love to hang around with you guys but there's only one thing man. I am not" and Denny became emphatic and fearful at the same time," becoming Julie

Blood and dressing in short skirts. I'd feel like a bleeding drag queen. I did it only once and only as Yvonne conned me into It.. I didn't know which

way to cross my bleeding legs. I'll never forget that one….and coming on to Al like that."

The 2 Julies grinned at their memories of the makeover they did on Denny, and the real fear in her eyes at the prospect of being persuaded to do something

against her will. It always happened to her like that.

"We'll give Yvonne a real send off tomorrow. Make it good for her." And at that, Denny smiled, feeling much happier about herself. She had that feeling

of security which she craved as much as anything. She'll miss Yvonne more than she could say but now she couldn't feel angry at Yvonne at deserting her

like this like she did before. Trouble was that she couldn't tell Yvonne, or anyone else or herself even, about she had felt deep down inside.

It was Yvonne's last night and lock up time. The familiar sounds of prison warders' heavy footsteps, the clang of metal doors and the sporadic conversations

between prisoners and officers, some friendly, others confrontational. Yvonne could hear Bodybag moaning away to some new faceless twat of a screw how

overworked she was due to these stupid shifts and one of these days, she'll go sick. It's all bollocks, she loves lording it over everyone rather than

running round full time after that bad tempered old git of a husband. Bodybag getting high as a kite on that ecstasy tablet showed her what twenty five

years of wedded bliss in the Hollamby family was really like with a cantankerous man that was too old to get it up anymore. That's why she has to take

it out on the rest of us. Never mind, Bodybag will be past history, and she will be someone she'll be glad to leave behind. Out of her life and out of

her mind.

Yvonne stared round at her cell. She had managed to make it as cosy as it could be made in a dump like Larkhall. She took in the nice curtains, the wardrobe

jammed full of her clothes and the magazines and the blue carpet, which were all little things but softened the whitewashed brick walls that stared at

her every night. She was familiar with every crevice in the arched roof of the cell that she looked up at last thing before she went to sleep. Part of

her was at Larkhall but, at last, part of her was mentally moving on to the future as some long delayed constant party she was barred from but the prison

walls in her mind were starting to come down.

Yvonne was fidgety tonight and couldn't get comfortable in her narrow bunk bed tonight, however she lay. Normally she slept pretty well but her mind just

wouldn't switch off tonight. It was the thought of all she had to do tomorrow and her mind kept repeating itself like a stuck record that at 2pm Lauren

was going to come over and pick her up from outside the prison. She ought to be able to think, yeah, that's sorted out this didn't work. The more it annoyed

her, the more it kept her awake so the more it annoyed her, etc, etc in a hopeless spiral. You soft cow, she finally thought, can you remembered Nikki

had a last night too and that was before she went back to the Court of Appeal when it was quite possible that she would be shoved back into prison for

the rest of her bleeding life. Get a grip, woman, was the final thought that settled her down to commit herself to the future whatever that future might

be.

Chapter Sixteen

Beams of sunshine slid through the gaps in Yvonne's curtains to wake her up out of her sleep. With the mental cotton wool of sleep interfering with her

thoughts, Yvonne absent mindedly cursed being deprived of an extra hour's sleep till the thought like an electric shock jabbed her into life. This was

the big day which she had built up to after all these months. Something she tried to do the hard dangerous way twice in breaking out was now being handed

to her on a plate. That Larkhill prison, after all this time would let her simply walk out of the gates and never return seemed strange to her.

Normally she wouldn't hurry too much to get up as sometimes when she was down, she would ask herself what was there anything to get up for. Today, Yvonne

was keyed up and laid out all her possessions in a neat pile ready for the polythene sacks to carry all her possessions out of Larkhall along with herself.

She put on her favourite leather outfit and today, went to town on her makeup. She was going to look her best so that she could go out with a bang.

Presently, came the jangle of the keys outside and the door opened and, in the gap came the scowling face of Bodybag.

"And what sort of service do you call this? On my special day and all" Yvonne smirked at Bodybag. True to form she glared back at her with anger. Surely

on her last bleeding day, she'd lighten up.

"You'll get seen to when we're ready, Atkins. Not before."

"And have you got the de luxe plastic bags so I can move all my belongings."

"You have the standard one bag that is in the rule book. No more than that."

"But that won't be enough, Sylvia, Miss, to move my clothes, my bottles of Chanel perfume you've got locked away unless you thieving bastards have nicked

them. Do I have to see Miss Betts and complain about this?" Yvonne knew that Bodybag was doing her usual petty obstructive routine one last time.

"Go on, Mrs Hollamby. You don't have to pay for these out of your wages" Denny Blood chirped in, having been let out earlier.

"I know it, Mrs Hollamby is dead cut up about Yvonne leaving so she's trying to make it impossible for her to leave." Julie Saunders , knowing she was onto

a good thing, joined in the stirring.

A ripple of laughter was already stirring along the wing and so Bodybag stalked away down the landing. She would ask the new young prison officer to dish

out the extra bags to that Atkins woman so she wouldn't lose face publicly.

Karen finished her sip of coffee and replaced the cup to the left of her papers crowding out her desk.

"Sylvia, can you tell the dayshift that I will be briefly seeing off Yvonne Atkins when she leaves. There is bound to be some sort of send-off organised

by the prisoners."

Sylvia's mouth was frozen in a "O" shape of protest as she was stuck for words to express her outraged feelings so Fenner stuck his oar in instead.

"Are you raving mad, Karen. Is Atkins some kind of VIP? Might as well roll out the red carpet, except that it's for on the way out, not the way in. Anyway,

it's the first time anyone's mentioned a send-off to me." Fenner's voice managed to both sneer and patronise Karen at the same time. If he had his way,

Atkins would just piss off quietly and get out of the way.

" Get real, the pair of you." Karen saw red at their combined stupidity and mean mindedness. "I don't know if you want to keep Yvonne Atkins banged up for

life and continue to squabble over her or see her out of your way. Make your mind up." Karen looked in contempt at the lack of imagination and inability

to foresee the obvious. Thank God she used to be a nurse and not in the bloody Army, as in Jim Fenner's case, or a traffic warden, as in Sylvia's case.

It was that rigid straight line thinking that got drummed into them that they couldn't shake loose.

"Any prisoner who ends up being top dog or who means something to the other prisoners in some way ends up with a send-off." Karen spoke patiently and slowly

hoping that Sylvia's eyes wouldn't glaze over with incomprehension. "It's happened with Crystal, twice, Nikki Wade and others. In our own interests, we

would be well advised, publicly, to go along with and be part of what will happen. Besides, I want you two to think of what prison life will be without

Yvonne Atkins……."

"Sheer paradise, no cheek ….." Bodybag broke in with that idiotic smile on her face.

"I mean that there will be a prisoner or some combination of prisoners who will dominate. You will either get the likes of Yvonne Atkins, who I agree will

take the piss, and can be bloody minded, but the vulnerable or the easily led like Denny Blood and Charlotte Middleton get looked after. Either that or

you get the likes of the Peckham Boot Gang causing mayhem within a week of their arrival. Though I know I wasn't there but I get the strong feeling," and

here Karen's eyes bored through Sylvia's with all the deep contempt that she felt for the stupid woman as much as, she had to admit it, Yvonne Atkins felt,

"that if there hadn't been some cack handed, jackboot approach to the situation, the situation wouldn't have blown up in our faces in a full blown riot."

Fenner looked totally innocent as, for once, he was as he was totally uninvolved with the riot while Bodybag looked sweaty and uncomfortable.

"There will be a power vacuum when Yvonne Atkins leaves. You had better be on the ball and see who fills it. There are a lot worse prisoners around……like

Snowball Merriman."

Having saved the strongest argument to last and seeing both Sylvia and Fenner wince at that, Karen strolled out to the landing to casually look around knowing

that, very shortly, Yvonne was due to leave Larkhall forever.

Chapter Seventeen

So this is it, Yvonne thought to herself. The fact that her cell was stripped bare and everything in her life was packed up in two bulky plastic bags was

a minor one. She had to say goodbye to everyone.

Memories flooded back in her mind of seeing Crystal and Nikki leave Larkhall. A large and generous part of her feelings was joy that someone was showing

those bastards by getting out and walking out, proud and strong. Those who got out, deserved to get out and they weren't walking out meekly and apologetically,

bowing and scraping to the likes of Fenner and Bodybag Yvonne's heart had leapt when Nikki, bold as brass, told Bodybag that she'd "miss her, at least

taking the piss out of her" and knew that Nikki was one of her kind, at a time when Nikki was by no means sure she would walk. She knew from the moment

she gave Nikki a big hug that she'd miss Nikki's strength in the weeks after she left. At that very second and for that very reason she knew that she would

go into a tremendous down, a sort of "after the party is over" feeling. Being banged up over O'Kane's murder, was a big part of that feeling but not all

of it.

The maternal side of Yvonne went out to Crystal getting free in being reunited with her baby like mums should be and having a decent fella like Josh, not

many around that would stand by her.

And now it was her turn.

She opened her cell door and a tremendous cheer echoed through the cell wing. Yvonne blinked with real surprise. She knew she was popular but not that she

was some bleeding star. Denny came forward to take her bags off her while prisoner after prisoner shook her hand or kissed her on the cheek as she walked.

A massed chant of "Yvonne, Yvonne" started up. Now I know I am some bleeding star, she thought self deprecatingly. I thought I was a cocky upstart tough

bitch but I can't believe all this and a few tears ran down her face.

Yvonne was sharp enough to ask herself, why aren't the screws kicking up at this, Bodybag and Fenner of all people. Then Karen Betts came into view, smiling

broadly.

"Yvonne, I just want to say from me and my fellow officers that we wish you all the best in the outside world. I know for certain that you have a lot to

offer in the outside world and I hope and trust that it will be for the good."

Yvonne was just about to say, are you bleeding kidding, Karen Betts. You may wish me well but Fenner and Bodybag would be delighted if I got run over by

a bus five minutes after getting out of this dump and would throw a champagne party to celebrate. The barrage of cheers temporarily faded into Yvonne's

background but continued to echo round the wing. She looked into Karen's eyes which said, this is me, Karen Betts, wishing you all the best and I am keeping

the prison officers in line, just follow the script, get it. Yvonne got the message and thought to herself, you crafty sod but thanks Karen, thanks a lot.

"Grateful as I am for your kind wishes." And her the expression in Yvonne's eyes belied the gently mockery in her tones, " I am intrigued that Jim Fenner

and Body- I mean Mrs Hollamby were unable to find time to see me off."

"If they turned up, they would be too overcome with emotion. I am sure you've said everything to them in the past you could have said now. Best of luck,

Yvonne." And with that Karen's elaborate irony changed to a genuine, from the heart, handshake to the accompaniment of cheering that continued to resound

through the prison. They had truly said to each other what they wanted to say.

Near the end of the procession, in the foyer, Yvonne looked up, hearing the sounds of cheering coming from overhead and she saw prisoners lining the railings

of the three floors. Yvonne nearly broke down at this as she saw the numbers of prisoners all there for her.

"You're all right, man." Denny said squeezing her hand.

Right at the end of the procession stood the 2 Julies. They weren't the brightest women around but they could feel Yvonne's thoughts as if they were their

own.

"Denny and I wanted to tell you that we're going to be all right after you go free. Denny isn't going to be the third Julie but as good as. Just you give

our love to Lauren and you look after yourself. Don't you worry about us but if you get the chance to write, we'll be here", Julie Saunders spoke in the

most convincing tones she could with Julie Johnson's delayed echo of "We'll be fine."

"You take care, man." was Denny's short and sharp reply. It seemed for ages that Yvonne exchanged a final hug and a kiss for each woman who had helped her

get through yet another day at Larkhall. Amazingly, there was no screw around to bellow at her to hurry up. Only later on did she realise that she was

given that amount of respect. All three knew how each other really felt but no matter how they would miss Yvonne, it was time for her to go.

Yvonne turned for one last look at G wing with Denny, the 2 Julies in the front of a tableau of all the familiar faces of her prison life, all in position

and ready to disappear behind her. Even Karen Betts, towards the back and to the left waved goodbye one more time. Her eyes misted over with the tears

in her eyes as she turned away towards her future.

Di appeared perhaps not Yvonne's best friend but as screws go but she was genuinely kind hearted. Yvonne felt a pang of guilt at all the jokes she had made

in the past about Di's love life. Di took over carrying Yvonne's bags and they stepped into the courtyard, always only seen from a window. After the comparative

gloom of the wing, the bright light almost blinded Yvonne. Yvonne looked back briefly at the ancient castle wall towering into the sky behind which were

rows of small windows each one of which represented some woman's life held in limbo. Yvonne came at last to the stout wooden gates and Ken, the doorman,

smiled at her and opened the door to the outside world. He scribbled notes on his clipboard "03624 Atkins prisoner – discharged at 14.00 hours" and signed

off Yvonne's prison identity forever.

Yvonne stepped forward into the hurly burly of the outside world.

Chapter Eighteen

Nikki was stretched out on their big double bed where she was at her most comfortable while Helen occupied a bedside chair. Some instinct told both of them

to get the physical setting right and they would find it easier to talk. It was a long cool summery evening after the heat and bustle of their working

day and a gentle wind played with the drawn curtains

"I've never talked about when I was little, Helen, but I'm talking about Nicola Wade, the child my parents wanted me to be but never was." started Nikki.

At that very moment, the name which none but the appeal judge had used for years came back to her mind. She remembered the habitual flick of her mother's

voice who, in her distant way, called out to her to stop playing and to sit down for dinner……..and when the interminable ceremony of Sunday dinner meal

was dragged out to an excruciating pitch of boredom, getting impatient and wriggling on this impossibly high dining chair, longing to get down from the

table and play but for her parents. She wasn't allowed to talk at the table, only grown ups could.

Nikki floated memories into the cool calm air of their bedroom of her and her elder brother Stephen being got ready for her mother's interminable parties

for her friends. She was made to wear this hideous party dress and put up with her mother endlessly brushing her long hair…….

"What," Helen said laughing," You Nikki Wade, with your ultimate cool get up?"

"Yes, yes, yes," Nikki said, half laughing, half blushing at the memory," there is an old photograph album of me at home?….at my parents…with pictures of

me I would never show even you, Helen Stewart, they were so bad…" Then a more serious expression spread over Nikki's face now she was on a roll to relive

her past, come what may.

"There was never the love and attention on me…or Stephen either, all my childhood….we were exhibited more as showcases for my successful father, a Naval

captain and his dutiful wife….we were expected to sit in a corner and make occasional polite conversation while the braying sounds of adults talking about

sod all went on and on. Then we were dismissed and told to play elsewhere which was a relief to get out of that hellhole. You could hardly see across the

room it was so full of cigarette smoke…."

"And you a twenty a day smoker…" murmured Helen.

Nikki smiled at that irony. Helen's occasional interjections made it easier for her push on into the story. She knew Helen knew just what she was doing.

"Going to boarding school was a relief to begin with. It got me out of the house and I thought I would get friends my own age, not my parent's friends…….."

mused Nikki. "It was when I got there, I found that I was surrounded by mini adults, same thinking, same narrow minded values. We were all supposed to

think the same but I used to argue back at them, ask them why things had to be that way but they didn't know. Worse than that, I came across my share of

bullies who used to pick on the few friends I had there who were smaller, weaker or more timid than they were…..till I caught up with them …..my older

brother used to challenge me to wrestling matches when we were little but gave up when I began to win all the time, that's how I learnt to beat hell out

of them……."

Helen smiled at that one. She could imagine Nikki as a tough wiry fearless little kid who could take on schoolyard bullies verbally or physically.

"Of course, at that age in my best parent's clothes and so on, I didn't look any different, I was just different inside and talked differently. I used to

think of myself as a bit of a loner, apart from my friends."

"That's because you were right and they were wrong, 've got to be yourself before anything else. I learnt that from you more than twenty years

further down the line than when you worked it out for yourself." Helen gently intervened

Nikki turned her head and smiled at Helen, pleased that Helen was with her on this journey every inch of the way.

"When I was just started into my teens, being different took on a whole new meaning.

All these other girls, apart from my friends, started buying these copies of "Smash Hits" and all became Duran Duran fans. They were the same idiots I always

loathed. There used to be a record player we all shared and that bloody song 'Rio' kept being played and replayed……if Fenner had known how much I hated

it, he'd have had me banged up in seg and stuck that record on constant replay." Nikki shot off on a sudden tangent of thinking that made Helen smile.

"What was worse were these mindless girls who kept asking me how bloody wonderful they thought Simon Le Bon was and I kept thinking, what's the big deal?

All these centre spreads of the group were pinned up everywhere. Even today, I still hate that group."

Helen had a whole load of mixed emotions running through her. She had sensed that running through Nikki was this anger and defiance mixed with this need

to be loved and to belong. All of this made sense to her. Helen's training in looking objectively at things enabled her to mentally take a stance from

just far enough 'outside' the situation at the same time that she felt Nikki's feelings with her. Helen, herself, had come a long long way from the period

in her life when she couldn't talk straight, couldn't fully face herself and Nikki was the one who confronted her feelings with defiance, scorn, friendship,

love all of which confused her at the time.

"So Nicola Wade would go home at the end of term for the holidays. At home, my brother who I grew up with was buying his first yuppie suit and meekly doing

what he was told and becoming a stranger. When his friends came round, I used to shut myself away in my bedroom with a book. Reading was the only place

I felt free."

Helen had a vivid mental flashback to the first time she had gone into Larkhall Prison library only to get the cold shoulder from Nikki. It wasn't just

because she was a Wing Governor wearing a suit.

In the meantime, the bedroom was getting darker and darker and Helen could just about see the vague shape of Nikki stretched out on the bed. Helen was getting

neckache from the bedside chair that she had been sitting on for what seemed a long time but she was duty bound to see this one through to the finish.

"My best friend, Jane, I used to spend more time than with anyone standing up for than anyone…..and not just the obvious stuff but the two faced bitchiness

you get. That was what brought us together. She was the one who shortened my name to Nikki. I decided that sounded so much better, more me. " Nikki continued

with a slight smile on her lips at some of the antics they got up to, the two of them versus the others. "We got labelled us as troublemakers because of

Jane's Clash first LP. She'd got hold of that in the holidays and one day when both of us were really totally pissed off, we stuck that one on, maximum

volume. "

Nikki laughed out loud in her unrestrained style when she described and relived in her mind that blast of amplified guitars coming out of nowhere and that

angry singing that said the truth, more than that pretty pretty Simon Le Bon crooning. When she realised that Helen's dirty laugh that registered high

on the Richter scale was less than she was accustomed to, Nikki broke off to politely enquire and Helen sheepishly confessed that that very same LP was

Thomas's favourite LP from when he was young.

"I can't believe that one," and Helen just knew that Nikki's irony loving soul just loved that twist of fate.

"Jane finally got hold of this Eurythmics record which we used to play when we got the chance- and a poster pin up we could finally put up on the wall of

Dave Stewart and Annie Lennox. All the other girls gave us weird looks like why were we fancying this guy who looked like a short haired bearded hippie

and we had to pretend to show an interest in him when really it was Annie Lennox . Nikki's voice speaking out of the darkness went on to paint in words

in quick brush strokes when and how her feelings for Jane blossomed into love, her first love, the first time she had found someone to love and be loved

by. "You know what young love is like…….and you know Helen when you find out what love is really about." Helen didn't need to be able to see Nikki to know

that everything in Nikki focussed that last remark at Helen.

"It should never have happened," Nikki broke out with sudden passion." that sneak Michelle Foster saw me and Jane kissing and grassed me up to the headmistress

.We got hauled up before the Headmistress, Miss Large and thrown out of school at a moment's notice, without a proper hearing. I can still hear that awful

voice going on about 'the good name of the school' and that 'other girls must be protected from girls like you ' and the usual 'disgusted of Tunbridge

Wells' sort of stuff. She had power over me but I hated her and despised her and had no respect for her .I vowed that no one, but no one would ever hold

that unjust power over me. Of course, when I went home," Nikki went on with all the pent up bitterness in her voice, "I got the same from my parents and

my brother. I packed my bags and left the same night."

Nikki dissolved into tears and Helen, tears running down her face, joined her on the bed to hold her. Even at that moment, while they clung on to each other

the thought was there at the back of both their minds that the trauma of these last few days had brought them closer with more understanding and that there

was as way out of this one.

Chapter Nineteen

Yvonne set off down the narrow approach road to the high street to wait on the street corner where she had arranged meet Lauren. Everything was suddenly

still now, in her ears and in her senses, after the high drama of her leaving. She was on her own now as all the cast had left. She took one last look

at Larkhall Prison, the stout wooden door set in the ancient walls capped with coiled wire and the castle buildings already diminished in size and distance,

turned back and made her way forwards to the street corner. Yvonne worried that Lauren wasn't here – she should be here by now to whisk her away back to

home and security,

Out on the main street, there seemed to be a multitude of people hurrying in every directions on the pavement and the revved up sounds of cars fighting

for every spare scrap of tarmac and for dominance of the roads. Surely, this must be a busy day, Yvonne thought, I can't remember outside life being as

brash and hectic as this. Yet Yvonne had been brought up in the East End and she was quite at home in modern city life, or at least she thought she was.

"Watch out where you're going you stupid cow," came this angry female voice out of the periphery of her vision.

'Do you know who you're talking to' nearly came to her lips in that deadly quiet tone of Yvonne's just before she told that person just where to get off

when a shock came to her that this total stranger knew nothing about her at all. It wasn't personal, it was just that she was cluttering up the pavement

with her belongings and she was in a hurry to go somewhere else. In the impersonal anonymous ways of city life this was perfectly normal behaviour.

"There's enough bloody space for the two of us, just clear off." Yvonne replied but with only a quarter of the force of personality she normally used. In

this world, this woman didn't know her from Adam and didn't want to know her and that unsettled her. She was used to being Yvonne Atkins "top dog" of G

wing and not some middle aged woman cast adrift in a big city. Likely thing was that she wouldn't see the cow again but that didn't do her self esteem

any good.

It was the open space that was starting to make her feel weird. She had had four years of 'keeping her elbows in' along the corridors and while she walked

and going to bed in a pretty confined space and the biggest space was the kitchen area. All that time she'd spent in Larkhall, she had had dreamed of visions

of free open spaces, no wall, no fences to hem her in, the way she remembered and liked it. Now, she was starting to feel like a bleeding freak.

What the hell was holding up Lauren, she'd given her enough time, Yvonne thought impatiently. She fished inside for some coins for the coin box nearby to

phone her up. The metallic feel of the coins was totally bizarre, as she had had a life where she bought things on 'weekly spends' and she'd been used

to using phone cards. Now this was a tiny step back into the 'real world' where, after all, she'd been nearly forty years. Get a grip, girl.

Manhandling her bags inside the red painted phone box, she dropped the coins into the slot and, to her relief, Lauren answered on her mobile.

"Lauren, what the bleeding hell has held you up?" Yvonne asked, half in anxiety. Then her spirits zoomed skywards when she was told she was five minutes

away by car and hang on at the street corner, she'll spot her. The pips started to sound and Yvonne snatched one last minute of chat time before the phone

went dead. Lauren would explain later what kept her.

After getting out, Yvonne was more rested. She had been dropped in the deep end of the outside world, no wonder she felt a bit funny. All the same, she

couldn't wait till she was whisked away in Lauren's car and get back to home and hearth and chill out and not with those thimble sizes of booze she got

smuggled in from time to time. Now she was experiencing the freedom she had wanted all these years, she felt she ought to take it a bit easy. It wasn't

as easy as she had thought.

Suddenly a quick double toot broke into Yvonne's train of thought as she stared out into space. Lauren pulled in to the kerb in a smart red Ford Fiesta.

"You'd better jump in sharpish, mum, as there's a stream of traffic waiting to hit me up the backside."

Yvonne blinked and lobbed her bags into the back and sort of fell in sideways as, with impossible speed, Lauren ratcheted the gears up to full speed.

"Sorry about that, mum. I'll explain later why I was late."

Yvonne felt that she was pulled away from her past and in some sort of time travel machine propelling her into her future. She felt strange enough right

now so she let Lauren take charge and drive her, as she wanted to.

She felt a strange sensation that everything to the side of her vision flashed past at a ridiculous speed that made her feel dizzy and sick yet she looked

at the speedometer and it was only 40 miles an hour, not exactly having a good burnup was it. She huddled in the corner of the car and looked at Lauren

who was dressed immaculately in her leather jacket while her sleek dark hair hung free. It was as if Lauren was the adult at the moment and Yvonne was

the child.

"Here you are mum. Welcome home." And Lauren brought the car to a halt in a drive in front of a very flash house which made her blink to realise was actually

hers yet it seemed so strange.

Karen shut her front door behind herself with an exhausted sigh. Dealing with Sylvia Hollamby's predictable last minute rant about treating Yvonne as if

she was royalty and explaining to Sylvia that there was alternatives to 'banging prisoners up twenty four hours a day' made her think, screw the paperwork,

it will wait till tomorrow. She reached for a couple of extra strong Anadin tablets in her handbag and swallowed them to dull the headache.

Karen was tired and had had enough. She had had week after week of solid grind at work and slump in an armchair at home in the evening. This wasn't the

care free Karen of how many year's back that relished going out in the evening. This was the price of success that the more she got on in her job, the

more she was married to it. Somehow, ordinary life got squeezed out. It was fine to begin with to be on her own but her house sounded too quiet and you

could have too much of 'her own space'. She looked at herself in the mirror and there weren't too many wrinkle lines to be pasted over. She was still young

though the presence of her son at university proclaimed she was not that young. She poured herself a generous measure of gin and tonic into a glass and

put her feet up and let the latest soap on TV give her a chance to wind down. There must be life outside Larkhall prison.

Chapter Twenty

Yvonne couldn't believe her eyes when she walked into the front room of the house, her house, at the sheer opulence and space of it all. In the corner was

a huge flat screened TV and DVD player with enough controls to equip NASA, not like the poxy TV that she used to watch at Larkhall. To one side was a large

mirror and Yvonne had the first chance for a few years to see the reflection of herself in a mirror and full length at that. She'd not changed very much

since she last looked at herself in her mirror, had she? Next to her in the wide angle view, she thought Lauren looked much like the way she used to. She

turned away from the mirror and the direct impression was much the same, everything looked all sleek and perfect, everything brand new and brightly coloured

with a vast space to left and right of her and straight ahead.

"I can't believe it, Lauren. Back home after all this time."

"Are you all right, Mum. You look as if you're a stranger in your own home. Nothing much has changed, has it?" Lauren looked both questioningly and reassuringly

at Yvonne, both at the same time, as Yvonne looked dazed and feeling for some sort of identity. To Lauren's eyes, there had only the slow process by which

the odd thing was thrown out and replaced and odd a lick of paint slapped on the walls. This was a normal day at home with Mum back where she belonged.

"You're home, now, Mum. Really home."

And at that both instinctively moved forward to hug each other. Both clung to each other to tell each other that there would be no more separations, no

more Lauren walking away under the watchful eye of Bodybag. Time seemed to stand still to make up for the days, months and finally years that had crawled

by to go to waste. There were tears in Yvonne's eyes when she thought that Lauren had stuck by her from the very beginning and this was the "and all ends

happily after" like all the stories she'd heard of or read.

Finally, Yvonne broke free and her instinct was to wash all the creased up feeling of travel and, yes she had to say so, to get all the feel of the prison

out of her skin.

"Is it all right, Lauren, to go upstairs and take a shower?" Yvonne suddenly broke in.

"Mum, of course it's OK. It's your house after all." Lauren laughingly replied. I'd better keep it light, Lauren thought to herself, Mum will take a lot

of getting used to being back home after four years away, it's not that simple her coming back after me being in charge here. "Look, you have a soak in

the shower, Mum. Take as long as you like while I finish off getting the dinner." Bloody hell, Yvonne thought, I've got so used to asking permission to

do the slightest thing from the screws even while I've spent years taking the piss out of them over the slightest little thing. They aren't even there

now and I can just decide what the hell I want. First time I've thought of that till now.

Instinctively Yvonne flinched for the possibility of Larkhall's cranky shower shooting either a stream of liquid ice or a scalding trickle all over her.

This time, when the spray of water just at the right heat, gushed forth, Yvonne surrendered to the blissful feeling of the feeling of warm water soaking

down her in her own shower. She had all the time in the world and no other cow wanting her to hurry up and she consciously thought, no screw telling her

how much time she should take. This was the first physical feel of luxury that she had experienced for a long long time.

Meanwhile, Lauren clattered about in the kitchen, conscious, for once, not of the emptiness in the large house but the invisible reassuring presence of

her mother upstairs. It was only then that Lauren realised how tough and independent she'd had to be all this time in an empty house and how nice it was

to have company, even if it was invisible.

Dinner at the table was an exercise in slowly eating the meal set out in front of her by Lauren with all the time in the world and a couple of glasses of

wine which went straight to her head. While eating, the initial natter of conversation faded away to a quiet intimacy over soft lights with her grown up

daughter.

Yvonne looked into the sitting room and at the chair in the corner. The largest chair with the best view was 'Charlie's chair' and it had been an unwritten

rule, policed by Yvonne as much as anyone that no one dared sit there. Yvonne glanced sideways at Lauren who gestured to her, yes, you can make that choice.

Lauren had long been used to the absence of the black lowering shadow of Charlie and the way they jumped to it when Charlie clicked his fingers. Yvonne

had to push very hard to keep at bay that invisible presence. Eventually, Yvonne slumped into the armchair that seemed to swallow her up in comfort.

"What do you want to do now, mum?" Lauren presently asked.

"Do?" as a past conversation in her voice echoed to her that she 'promised herself to go out on the pull….or the best bottle of booze around….' Thinking

seriously about it, Yvonne wanted to stay in so that she could get acclimatised to the outside world …………"I'd sooner stop in with you tonight, Lauren."

Lauren had anticipated that one and had cancelled an invitation to see her best mate. That could wait.

"I thought I'd explain why it was that I was late. The bloody car wouldn't start and it took for ages for the AA to fix it."

"But you could have gone out in the BMW. A bit flash but I wouldn't mind." Yvonne replied with a grin but secretly wondering what the hell Lauren was playing

at.

"What BMW?" Lauren said bluntly. And refilling Yvonne's glass with a generous measure of wine, Lauren brought Yvonne up to speed on the home front and Yvonne

was reeling under the impact. Charlie had not just left behind that blond tart he was knocking off that day he was rubbed out by Lauren's hit man, it was

the pile of debts that he'd taken on that poured through the letter box from the day he was first nicked.

"I went through all the letters, everything to do with the business. That bastard had gone to all the credit companies and spent a bloody fortune, no doubt

on all the tarts he'd been knocking off. I ……. "

"What happened to the villa in Spain?" Yvonne shot at Lauren though a chill feeling inside her told her the bad news already.

"That got sold…..and the BMW……and half the bloody business." Lauren shortly trying to minimise the impact of the shock on Yvonne. One glance into Yvonne's

eyes told her that that was a non starter."

"Why didn't you bleeding well tell me about this, Lauren?" Yvonne asked more sharply than she meant. Right first night of freedom this was turning out to

be.

Lauren bit back with great difficulty her first inclination to lose her temper.

"You've had the idea that everything in the garden outside Larkhall has been coming up rosy and I'd let you believe it as you've had enough on your plate

being in Larkhall. You've not been in the position to deal with bailiffs and debt collectors but I have and I had to learn it on my own." Lauren said slowly

and evenly, looking at Yvonne straight in the eye….."to keep your peace and mind…."

One look at Lauren's face told Yvonne that this was the plain unvarnished truth, no bullshit. She nodded at Lauren to continue.

"The closest I told you the truth was when I'd told you that 'Charlie was a dinosaur who had buggered up every deal that he'd been involved….that he can't

help himself and that I'd sorted out all the bloody crap', remember Mum?".

The words came back to Yvonne's razor sharp memory with total recall. She had had a pipedream of extravagant luxury all those years in Larkhall when things

were at their worst. That pipedream was going up in smoke but in return she'd got a daughter, a roof over her head and someone she could bloody trust.

"Come on Lauren. Let's split this bottle of wine and chill out." And she poured two generous measures into the cut glass wineglasses. They both jumped at

the idea and turned the lights down low and switched on the TV to watch some crap together. This would be a boring humdrum event in any family but to Yvonne

and Lauren, anything but.

Chapter Twenty One

Helen gradually pieced together the emerging day from the mists of unconsciousness only the waking up process took longer than normal after the emotional

upheaval of the previous evening. She rolled over in bed to find empty space and her eyes, coming into focus, caught Nikki finishing off the last of her

makeup and turning to her with a smile.

"Wake up, Helen, its time for work."

This is a turnaround. It's me normally waking up the living dead first thing.

"I've made a few decisions, Helen." Nikki chattered very brightly and confidently, "OK, I accept that mentally I'm wobbling all over the place. I don't

know how long it will last but there's no point in trying to fight it, that will only make things worse. I'm just going to have to work around it and I

know I'll really need your help." Helen's mind jumped the connection even though a quarter awake to think that this was a remarkable call for help from

someone like Nikki who was as proud and as independent as you could get.

"My memory is lousy, "continued Nikki," so I'd better get a jotter book or something to remind myself to do things. I don't care if it looks ridiculous

to others. I'm sure you'll back me up on this and that's all that matters."

Helen rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and, engaging brain fully in place, nodded agreement and for Nikki to carry on and thought proudly to herself, typical

Nikki to bounce back like this after hitting emotional rock bottom last night.

"I need to see my parents." Nikki said. "I've not had contact with them for nearly twenty years. They won't make the first move so it's up to me to do so.

I need to lay some ghosts of the past, that's obvious." Then, in a much softer tone, she asked Helen. "You've heard me talk about them and I know that

it is hardly a holiday and I'd understand if you backed out of this one but will you come with me?"

"I'll come, Nikki. Can't be harder than moving heaven and earth to get you sprung out of Larkhall." Helen replied with more confidence than she felt while

a little voice at the back of Nikki's mind told her that she might not feel so grandly decisive later on.

"And somehow, I need to put Larkhall prison finally behind me though I haven't figured that out yet."

A little while later, they were both off for a day's work and a few hours later after the front door slammed shut, the sleeping house was briefly woken

when the phone rang for the normal seven rings before cutting off and recording up the message left for Nikki.

A similar sunny morning's scene saw Lauren putting on her best leather coat and glugging a cup of coffee which she used to swallow a couple of headache

tablets. She'd been hitting the alcohol a bit last night but it was not every day your Mum comes home from prison, isn't it. Mum was still sound asleep,

conked out in bed as she'd had much more to drink than Lauren and she'd had to help her up the stairs to the spare room.

Lauren peeked in to see her Mum curled up in a tangle of quilts while she went off to work. She tried not to let herself think that half the cars from the

car hire business had been flogged off and she had a business, just, but one that paid the bills and not much more. The periodic red reminders for bills

were the grim reality behind the appearance of ostentatious wealth of a house built on past freely flowing rivers of wealth. Lauren wondered how much of

what she'd tried to tell her had sunk in. She knew how much Mum had been accustomed in the past to just going out and buying the most expensive perfume

or item of clothing on a passing whim. Lauren was born into this but she'd suddenly had to learn the hard way how to manage on very little.

Karen's day started with a steaming hot mug of coffee and the lingering feeling from her night-time dreams of some sort of excitement in her life. Her life

was neat and organised and she reached for her favourite tailored outfit. She had got another day in Larkhall Prison to face, a place that was her career

and inescapable destiny. She put together all the papers in her black briefcase , held another few files under her left arm while the heavy weight of the

briefcase stretched her right arm out of joint. She kicked the front door shut and set out in her car for the everyday journey, same time, same route to

Larkhall Prison.

Three hours after Lauren left the house, Yvonne started to wake expecting to see the usual sight of the dingy yellow rough brick wall of her prison cell

only something was wrong. The bed she was lying on was wider than she was used to and the quilt didn't let in the cold from the unheated bare stone cell.

A bit in her mind wondered when the screw was coming round to turn the keys, march into her cell and call out "Let's be having you." She thought she'd

lie it out for as long as possible and force the buggers to shout out to her to get up. Never let it be said that Yvonne Atkins would pass up a chance

of a little fun at the expense of your average screw. She'd got a name to live up to on the wing.

"What the bloody hell's happened to me," exclaimed Yvonne as her eyes unglued as she took in the width of the kingsized bed with the white quilt to match

and the built in wardrobes facing her and the sheer fresh brilliant whiteness of the room. The state of tension she was building herself up to face the

day evaporated instantly and an enormous feeling of relief swept over her. 'I'm bloody free, aren't I.' She told herself and the thought that she could

get up when she liked, do what she wanted made her feel weak with relief.

First day out, she treated herself to breakfast in bed with a spot of morning television though Tessa with her morning problem programme she could do without

as she'd had enough bleeding problems to last her the rest of her life.

When a good lie in had exhausted its pleasures, she thought the best thing was to phone up Nikki and take the chance to visit an old friend. She needed

a few ideas in getting used to the outside world and Nikki was the best person to advise her.

She grabbed hold of the phone and heard Nikki's calm clear measured instruction after the beep to "leave a message and phone number for either Nikki or

Helen and they'll get back to you."

Chapter Twenty Two

"Going into town, Mum," Lauren asked casually, too casually it seemed.

"I'm going to show the shops how an Atkins can shop." Yvonne replied with a big smile of satisfaction on her face

"That's what I was afraid of," Lauren explained with a tinge of fear in her eyes."In return for getting us in the clear after Charlie dumped on us, all

our credit cards, charge cards, the lot were cut up and returned. There is no chance of either you or I from getting stuff that way. It's solid cash from

now on."

Yvonne felt a quick flash of anger in being told, yet again, what to do. Lauren was her bleeding daughter and dads and mums ruled over daughters in her

world when she was growing up and now it was her own bleeding daughter that was breaking the Atkins family rules.

"If you don't believe what I'm saying, just come and have a look at the bank statements and see for herself". Lauren patiently asked Yvonne. Lauren was

different from when she went inside that Yvonne hadn't noticed before. There was a new assurance about her and the flexibility of Lauren's reasoning caught

Yvonne flatfooted for the first time in her life. Yvonne stomped off out the door with a few banknotes in her purse from Lauren which wouldn't last more

than ten bleeding minutes in the old days. Underneath all this, Yvonne was thrown by all this, as she was used to taking the piss out of authority figures

at Larkhall who tried to lay down the law in all their flat footed sanctimonious fashion.

Yvonne spent the day mingling with the other shoppers heading for Topshop, GAP, and other long forgotten sights and sounds started to make her feel normal.

She was part of the great Shopping Public after all these years and this made her feel that she had come into her own but there was one thing that had

taken away from the sweetness of the dream come true. That was the absence of her passport to happiness, her credit card with which she was used to sweeping

into the shop of her choice and adding to the shelf full of Chanel perfume whose existence she'd taken for granted. Instead, she'd bought a few bits of

makeup and had had to check which was the moderately cheap without being totally embarrassed and drifted on to a open air cafe where she could eye up the

possible talent. That was something else that she had been denied nearly all her time in Larkhall. Pity that it seemed to be gangs of teenagers out round

the shops or obviously married couples who were walking around town.

Yvonne felt happier later on out on her own and the wind blowing through her hair in a nice motor. Pity Lauren's red Ford Fiesta didn't have a bit more

poke under the bonnet but no matter. She was headed over to Nikki's that evening and she found the way to a very smart flat and rang the bell. Minutes

passed slowly to Yvonne's impatience till a crack in the door widened to reveal a casually dressed Helen.

"Miss Stewart," Yvonne exclaimed in total bewilderment as a familiar face in an unexpected and unfamiliar setting. Yvonne nearly said 'What the bloody hell

are you doing here' but checked herself in time and came out with her nearest she could get to polite conversation. "It's a bloody coincidence that we're

both visiting Nikki the same night."

"Visiting?" Helen's must puzzled expression and voice replied. "I live here." followed as if it were the most natural thing in the world which further threw

Yvonne.

"Yvonne, it's great to see you." Nikki said at last after coming out of the kitchen and hugging her. "Sorry for leaving you out on the doorstep."

Yvonne's sharp eyes noticed that Nikki was a bit dishevelled and beads of sweat on her forehead. This wasn't quite the Nikki Yvonne had known.

"You all right, Nikki." Yvonne softer tones reached out to Nikki. Something wasn't right.

"It's nothing," Nikki tried unsuccessfully to smile."I've just had a lousy day at work. These things happen. Now what drink do you like?" Nikki finished

in a more animated fashion and Yvonne noticed the way Nikki rapidly shifted the conversation.

A little while later, Yvonne edged into a topic that her mind working overdrive was half way working out the answers to. "I'm sorry, Miss Stewart…."

"Call me Helen," Helen smiled broadly, "I'm not governor at Larkhall any more. "

"I've been calling Helen that way for years." Nikki said quietly with mock innocence as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.

"You said to me that time we were running G wing." Yvonne replied with a knowing grin,"that you had someone on the outside and you were bloody shifty when

I started asking questions."

Nikki found despite herself that she wanted to catch up on how things were at Larkhall now that Yvonne was there. A voice in the back of her head asked

if it was a really good idea but with a leap of blind faith, she went ahead. What swung it was that Yvonne would be bound to give the lighter side of things

which would cast a bit of a nostalgic sheen over the grimmer events which had been freaking her out.

"You won't have heard the latest about Fenner's boyfriend." Yvonne mischievously tossed out a tasty morsel of gossip.

"What." Nikki and Helen shouted out together, sitting bolt upright with the widest grins on their faces. "Tell us more. Yvonne, you know all the bloody

gossip. You can't hold out on us on this one."

Bit by bit, Yvonne told them the whole story, Nikki and Helen keenly relishing the vision of Jim Fenner, devil incarnate as abuser of power and sexual predator

being harried and hunted in turn. They could just picture him.

"Poor Jim Fenner," smiled Helen with not a bit of sympathy," What a dilemma, forced to choose between his ambition and his sexuality. Things were never

so complicated when he could creep and connive his way to Mr Stubberfield's office to stab me in the back. So that's what the Old boy's Network comes down

to now." smirked Helen at which point Nikki collapsed on the floor laughing at the delicious irony of it.

"What is this Grayling like, Yvonne." Helen said on a slightly more serious note though she was still grinning. The way Helen came upfront to Yvonne showed

Yvonne how she had changed, none of this "Yes Minister" type coded language for the prisoners. They were all out of there now and Helen could say what

the hell she liked. In fact living with Nikki had made her come out of herself in more ways than one.

"A hard faced slimy bastard. Wouldn't trust him further than I could piss on him….."

"Which means they'll be a happy couple. Well suited." Nikki said after she'd recovered from an attack of the giggles.

"Hate to let you down, Helen but Di Barker's got there first. She'd married the bastard."

Neither Nikki or Helen could get their heads round that grotesque idea till Yvonne suggested that Di Barker would do that as she's bloody desperate and

Grayling would cover his back that way. Helen grimly nodded, as the obvious corrupt motive would be the right answer. It gave her a nasty taste of Larkhall

that she thought she'd put behind her.

"A toast to the happy couple, Fenner and Grayling." Nikki flourished her full glass of wine in the air in a sarcastic ceremonial flourish which Helen and

Yvonne noisily joined in.

It's OK now, Nikki drew a deep breath of relief. She had gone into a panic state when Yvonne was due to call, not that there was the slightest problem with

Yvonne being there but the fear that the conversation would drag back memories she was having trouble in facing. Thank heavens, Helen was there to talk

her out of it. Nikki relaxed totally into the sofa next to Helen while the three of them let their hair down.

Yvonne's 'uniform reaction' had gone out of the window with Helen's vivacious manner and her ability to call a spade a bloody shovel. Yvonne wondered why

she'd had her reservations about Helen and thought her stiff and starchy all those years. All the funny stories came back on a slightly alcoholic stream

of conversation as they were drawn together. As for Nikki and Helen being lovers, she could not give a toss about 'd got used to that sort of thing

at Larkhall. It was like being with a happy married couple.

"Was I all right to come round tonight, Nikki." Yvonne asked in a sudden serious moment. The thought had been on her mind and there wasn't any other way

of putting it.

"It wasn't you, Yvonne" Nikki earnestly reassured her. I was just that just after I'd written to you, it brought back a lot of bad memories of Larkhall

and before. Helen and I are really glad you came round. You've done us a lot of good. Any time you want to drop round, you just give us a ring."

Yvonne gave an enormous sigh of relief. It's always better not to beat around the bloody bush. She picked up the very letter she had written to Nikki just

before she'd been released and it gave her a curious perspective on herself. She couldn't think straight now as the wine she'd been knocking back had gone

to her head.

"Is it all right if I kip here the night on the sofa?" She asked? "If I go back in this state, I'll only be pulled over by the Old Bill."

As Helen nodded, painfully conscious of the last time she'd been pulled over, Lauren went to phone Lauren. It gave her a strange feeling to do that, the

way things had been since she'd got out of prison, as if she were the teenager asking permission to stay out for the night.

Chapter Twenty Three

Karen looked vacantly into the front room mirror looking at herself, at who and what she was, spending more time doing this than the last minute adjustments

she normally made before hurrying off for work.

Of course, the symbol of success, her favourite works tailored suit was very welcome after years of unflattering prison uniforms and before that her nurses

uniform. This is what she'd worked hard for. She'd settled insidiously into a pattern where her work had taken over her life and was too caught up in her

daily routine to question it. That moment, years ago, that she swore that she was as at least as bright as any of the men of her prison officer grade and

could do better than them set her on this path. Of course, she'd needed the money and had a son to bring up and that made her decision very sensible and

practical, very Karen. She'd single mindedly climbed the uncertain slippery ladder of the prison service. When she saw the official circulars offering

the chance of studying for a degree part time, that was more time cut into her evening. Managing her time was everything and giving Ross "quality time",

that was the phrase wasn't it, made her feel that she fitted into life. Now Ross was away at university which brought her round full circle to who she

was when, in her teens, she started her voyage of self discovery. She'd got everything she'd ever wanted…..except a real partner in life. She didn't want

to think of that too much.

Looking at herself in that mirror sparked the unaccustomed impulse to do something completely different. Life sitting at home watching TV or looking at

some work papers was comfortable but was stifling her. For Christ's sake, get a life, a rebel voice from within said to herself. Why not, for once in your

life, step outside your neat well ordered routine.

Going out on a Saturday night for Karen for the first time in years frankly scared her if she was honest. It was easy enough, her thoughts skidded away,

going out for a meal as part of a couple with Jim Fenner and, before him, Steve Bennett, the guy she lived with that got her into the prison service in

the first place. It was almost incestuous the way relationships in the Prison Service blossomed and then withered when she thought about it………..

This was the first time in years that she was going out on her own. She had a moment of panic that she had not done this in years and the fear of the unknown.

What had happened to all the discos that she used to go to when she was in her teens? They were long since closed, moved on except in her mind. They do

things differently these days, do they?

When she was dropped off in the night club area of town, she saw the garish lights from what were the quiet pubs she'd known and the streams of girls with

skirts half way up their backside and not much else besides. Bet their mothers don't know about this and ought to have more control over them. As she caught

the reflection of herself in a passing window, she ruefully and gleefully thought that her own best short black dress wasn't much longer. Not bad looking

after all these years, she thought to herself, as Karen Betts single woman footloose and fancy free gave a quick flounce and finally took over.

She edged sideways bit at a time as the stream of night people swept her along and more to her taste was a wine bar that she saw a little way ahead. There

was a sweet feeling of intoxication that swept her up to a place that she had not been for a long time which the street lights illuminated.

Once inside the wine bar, she felt comfortable with the feel of the bar and she made her way to be served through the crush of people. The man behind the

bar was more flamboyant than she was used to but then again, male prison officers were a load of undemonstrative pint of beer drinkers who though that

lager and lime was definitely a bit suspect. This man poured a glass of wine and chatted away to her.

"Not seen you at this pub before, darling."

A bit of Karen's mind thought that the man was a bit presumptuous, but she squashed that thought as Karen Betts wing governor sticking her mind in where

it wasn't wanted.

"Oh ,it's the first time I've been out on the town for a while. Not used to the nightlife about here. " Karen replied with her friendliest smile.

The man carried on chatting her up which gave Karen a nice ego boost that she realised she'd needed for a long while. After Fenner's 'snake in the grass'

false flattery, this must be a step up. Karen was a bit disconcerted in noticing the sideways glances he kept giving her. Presently, he excused himself

and he went to serve another man who came to the bar.

It was only now that Karen had a chance to look round and she noticed that there was something odd. She was used to pubs where there was a mix of men and

women, this pub had all men. It wasn't till she saw two men put their arms round each other and start kissing that she blushed a delicate shade of pink.

This was totally unlike Karen who was self-possessed and doesn't do blushes. Now she knew.

"Thanks for the drink," she called out to the barman who waved back as she drained the glass in one go and headed for the exit. If she was looking for a

night out, no disrespect but this wasn't the place to be. She smiled and shook her head and saw the humour of the situation. Of all the huge numbers of

nightspots that there are in town, she has to pick a gar bar.

The street was still full of an assorted stream of people going their ways and the next wine bar looked promising, but this time, take a good look round.

After a quick glance round, this bar was much more promising and before she knew what was happening, she was chatting to a friendly guy her age called

Paul. She was swept up into a whirl of conversation so that the wine bar, the low lights all faded away into the backdrop. At last she was having a conversation

which didn't revolve around bloody prisons. She felt young again.

"I'll get the next round, Paul " Karen said.

While she was waiting to be served, her heart stopped and she blinked her eyes. A whirl of emotions hit her as her eyes, unbelieving, took in the couple,

arm in arm, that walked down the wooden staircase from the upstairs bar, Yvonne Atkins and Mark Waddle. Her face like a mask was turned towards Paul who

was smiling at her and waiting. It was just as well that the barman took his time to serve the drinks so Karen could steal time to remember how to act

or feel or be at that frozen moment in time.


	3. Part Three

DISCLAIMER: All the characters used within this story are the property of Shed Productions. I am using them solely to explore my creative ability.

Both Sides of the Prison Walls

By

Richard

Chapter Twenty Four

Yvonne was smiling to herself in the mirror putting the final touches to her makeup now she'd got her first wage packet from the betting office where she

worked. It wasn't just that she had had to go cap in hand all the time to Lauren for money all the time but she was so bloody determined and bloody tight

with handing out the notes. It takes another female Atkins to be a match for a female Atkins, she thought ruefully, even though she knew Lauren loved her.

Surely tonight would be the final reward for all the time she's spent in Larkhall. It would be the first time she'd be out on the town and if she can't

pull, then she's losing her touch bigtime.

Lauren and Yvonne weren't so clinging to each other so fearfully as they had been when Yvonne first came out of prison. It was the reaction to the years

Yvonne was inside and Lauren had her own friends to see and was much more casual about those sort of things. It was "Hello, mum," "Goodbye mum" as Lauren

could be heard letting herself in to the house while Yvonne was elsewhere and a little while later was zooming off elsewhere. They were working towards

a new balance with Charlie out of the picture now in thought as well as in reality and Lauren moved upstage as equals with Yvonne now. So tonight was the

night of reward for Yvonne's good behaviour to adjusting to the outside world.

Mark Waddle was alone by himself on a cold windswept street in Larkhall, the place he'd sworn he'd never come back to. He liked the durable feel of the

stone buildings and, life in a Northern town and the down to earth accent that went with it that he'd got used to hearing about him. The town was a sanctuary

and such a relief after the treacherous emotional cross currents that threatened to pull him under in Larkhall. He felt that he'd got out while the going

was good. After a life so far of being against attachments and responsibilities and, because of it, finally messing up his relationship with Gina, he had

tried to do the responsible thing with Karen only being the caring sensitive "new man" with Karen, she had cast that in his teeth so it was time to get

out. So why on earth was he back in Larkhall in the one place he's sworn never to revisit? Nothing much, only that he'd promised an old mate to meet up

for a few jars and it happened to be at Larkhall. He was sold on the idea very reluctantly that, after all, he need not set foot anywhere near the prison

which was tucked down a minor road and out of sight but not out of mind. He had acute misgivings from the moment he set foot in the town and waited for

disaster to strike at any moment in this ill omened town. Of course, predictably enough, his mate failed to turn up and, after standing around on the street

corner with a chill wind whipping past him, he gave it up as a bad job and headed for the nearest place to get out of the cold. It happened to be a wine

bar, the sort of place that his real ale mates took the piss out of but, no matter, it was warm and it served something alcoholic. He gratefully accepted

a glass of wine and sat in the corner feeling the circulation return to his frozen legs. At least this corner of Larkhall was safe.

"Yvonne Atkins," Mark's astonished tones rang out when this incredibly sexy woman made straight in his direction with a distinct 'come on' look." What brings

you here?"

"I'm a free agent now, mark Waddle." Yvonne answered with a smile. "Been here a few weeks now and I'm a free agent. Completely free." she finished, packing

in all the meaning that she could in the last two words.

An electric shock went through Mark at the informal use of his name and the way she said. The 'don't touch' rule he used with prisoners, well nearly all

the time, was swept away with a look and this extremely fanciable woman sprang into place and " Atkins 03624" was expunged from his life. Everything, which

appeared humdrum from where he stood now, suddenly came alive.

H couldn't remember the process which took them to the upstairs of the wine bar but the presence of Yvonne close up as nearly draped round him as she could

get promised him everything later on wherever that later on would be.

"Drink up, Mark," Yvonne said invitingly as the contents of the shared bottle of wine went straight to his head giving him a pleasantly woozy feel. Hardly

had he put the glass down, when she kissed him passionately and wrapped her arms around him. The rest of the pub, already far distanced disappeared entirely

with him conscious of nothing else than Yvonne's hands wandering all over him.

"Hope you haven't got a bad back, Mark, not with what you are up for later on."

Time passed and he was transported into another magical place and he realised that a Yvonne Atkins who had been several years inside who had a reputation

for being into men was going to make up for lost time.

The pleasant warm feel carried them down the slightly out of focus wooden staircase and, unknowingly, past Karen's shocked unbelieving eyes.

Inside the taxicab they seemed to be forever in the black womblike space in the back with streetlights flickering at them from each side while they grappled

with each other. By the time they were poured out at the other end and were swept upstairs in one smooth move and into Yvonne's large luxurious bed. Then,

they ripped the clothes off each other and Mark was where he wanted to be with Yvonne's legs wrapped round him for ages until they collapsed in a heap

together with their clothes strewn round each other. But it wasn't very long when Mark realised that Yvonne hadn't finished with him yet……….

Chapter Twenty Five

The sun looked down into various bedrooms and might have wondered whether the couples it looked down were in the right bed or not if their thoughts were

visible.

Karen was warm in the arms of Paul who was as nice and gentle a lover as she could have wanted and made her feel very special but…she had to admit it…he

wasn't Mark. In the back of her mind, she could picture her telling Mark Waddle "I'm sorry Mark, but it isn't happening." What a fool she was and if she

knew then what she knew then, she would never have let him go. But no, she let events move relentlessly onwards and let him move away out of Larkhall and

out of her life. She came back to the Prison Officer's room to hear a leering Fenner tell her that Mark had shot out of Larkhall like a cork out of a bottle,

no leaving collection, no "meet up at the social club", no nothing. She would have liked to at least say what a good Prison Officer amongst all the sentimental

farewells from the likes of Ken. As that was how he felt about her, she took the huff a bit and had pushed him out of her thoughts from that day onwards,

and truly thought that Mark was past history, till last night. And yet in the bad times of her relationship with Mark, he had been obviously insecure about

Jim Fenner and the guy was right, she hadn't got over that bastard, believe it or not. She froze out the support he was willing to give and looking backwards

she really needed. Everything that happened in that period was frozen in time, packed away into the attic room of her mind, overlooked, passed by, hidden

away, till tonight.

Meanwhile, she stretched herself out and gratefully accepted a cup of tea from this gentle man and moved her smile into the appropriate position and said,

she had really enjoyed last night, it was something special. And if Mark was a minute or so later or earlier walking down that staircase, it would have

been special, no doubt of it.

So what was she to do, to pine away for a lost love who, for all she knew would be speeding up in a car or train many miles up north to a life or future

which she had no part of. Meanwhile this man in the here and now wanted more than "Wham bam, thank you man" and wanted to know when they could see each

other again.

And she had gone out only last night as her life was in rut and she wanted some excitement out of life?

"Of course I'd like to meet you again. I'll phone you tonight." Karen smiled but her thoughts were elsewhere. She would phone Paul tonight. She couldn't

be a total heel and leave him hanging. That wasn't fair.

"So you only gave me the 'come on' to screw a screw." Mark threw at Yvonne bitterly. He felt as if he'd been dragged through a bush backwards after a night

of lovemaking with Yvonne Atkins. The last thing he wanted or felt like was an argument. So that was on her mind, he thought bitterly.

"Well, Mr Waddle , three years inside and not had a decent shag all that time." Yvonne gave Mark her hard aggressive stare and suppressed the little matter

of the fake solicitors. "Hardly likely to spend the evening holding hands, am I. Besides all you blokes do the same without a second thought and boast

about it afterwards to your mates. What did you want, hearts and flowers, Mr Waddle. "Yvonne finished, her contempt deepening rubbing in the 'prisoner

/ screw" status into his face.

"It's Mark Waddle now, same as you're Yvonne Atkins. Besides I've never needed to do a Sylvia and rub my pips into your face or anyone else's. You ought

to know that one,"

"Oh me, a convicted criminal Tell the truth?" Yvonne's smile was as hard edged as her glare.

"Stuff that one, 're as honest as anyone….either side of the prison bars. I've never had any lies from you, have I?" Mark shot back with more

force and determination, looking Yvonne in the eyes. In the clash of wills, Yvonne's eyes dropped.

"Don't try to play bleeding trick cyclist." Yvonne replied in a softer tone than before.

"OK Yvonne, I've done everything in the past that you say, I've screwed Di in the gent's loo when I was going out with Gina and I've boasted with the lads

about it if it wouldn't have got back to Gina. I've played around just like you said till I had to grow up when Gina miscarried. That's when I knew you

have responsibilities, when my girlfriend was expecting a baby and she lost it because I acted like a pillock …..and you get to the point when you finally

see what you've done in life, there are no cop outs and you need to grow up and act responsible …for what you do and for other people. And if it sounds

like a load of sentimental crap, I couldn't give a toss, Yvonne Atkins."

The force of Mark's words were like a bucketful of cold water thrown in Yvonne's face.

"You're masterful, Mark Waddle, when you get going." Yvonne replied with a touch of flippant irony but Mark was alert enough to spot that the change of

name reflected the change in heart.

"You're bloody good in bed, Yvonne Atkins, and you'll make some man very happy if you let them."

"Oh, and it isn't going to be me, Mark. I'm disappointed."

"I don't know what I want right now, Yvonne." Mark frankly admitted. "Not since I lost Karen Betts. But I've got to move on."

"Tell me about it, Mark. I'm a good listener." Yvonne's answer had all the softness in her voice she tried so often to conceal. The guy had his problems

and needed to unburden himself. "Let's get back into bed."

Both of them suddenly felt weak and worn out and Yvonne's bed was as cosy a place as any place. Yvonne wrapped a friendly arm round Mark's shoulders as,

after an initial hesitation, he plunged into the story in detail. There was a soft sympathetic side of Yvonne he hadn't seen and only Yvonne of all the

people around him now has direct experience of half of what he'd lived through. How could he describe Jim Fenner or Karen Betts to the workmates at the

prison he worked at now where the chief occupational disease was death from boredom.

"You have been a pillock in the past, Mark," Yvonne said reflectively and Mark was strangely soothed by Yvonne's words.."but we've all screwed up in the

past. I trusted to my bastard son Ritchie like I did to my bastard husband Charlie. You're not so bad."

Mark lay on his back while Yvonne gradually shifted her position so that she was nearly lying on Mark as she softly and tenderly stroked him.

"Don't worry, Mark. I'll make it better for you this time. I'd do that for a friend."

And this time Yvonne melted into Mark's arms as between them, they healed the hurts both of them knew they'd suffered.

The sun smiled down into Helen and Nikki's bedroom.

"Nikki, you're doing great." Helen said.

"I'll ride this one," Nikki said with confidently, "I think I'm through the worst of all this. I think I've got through all the surprises I've pulled on

myself. I'm feeling stronger now………..I wouldn't have made this one, Helen, without you….just like I wouldn't have got out of prison without your help."

Helen kissed Nikki slowly and softly. All the calm of the weekend lay in front of them And next on the list was facing up to Nikki's parents, the last challenge

on the list. They both knew instinctively they were ready for this one.

Chapter Twenty Six

Karen was in a blinding hurry to pop out and get some shopping done last thing in the evening before the supermarket closed and found herself weaving her

way down unfamiliar streets. She was on her own on the night after seeing Paul. It was pleasant enough, having company for two but she couldn't swear that

he was the soulmate she had waited for all her life. It did make a difference to lonely nights and that was all. To say she didn't know her own mind was

the underestimate of the century and she felt guilty inflicting her confusions on another human being and especially to make that person the victim of

them. She had done that once before and that was enough…….

All this led her to miss the plot in her driving and lose her way. The next thing she knew was the car she was driving suddenly made a spluttering sound

and she lost all power. Frantically she jammed her foot on the accelerator to keep the car going by sheer willpower but that wasn't enough. She was right

on a junction and the car was barely making any speed and she panicked that a normally reliable piece of machinery was suddenly letting her down. She saw

a spot to park the car just past the junction and coasted to a stop. Her immediate sensation was that the jumble of thoughts surrounding Paul and Mark

were driven to the back of her mind while she had an immediate crisis to deal with. She grabbed her mobile and a blank screen betrayed the fact that the

battery had gone dead.

"Shit" Karen cursed at two instances of useless machinery. Her mind going click click on overdrive, it was to drive her to call at the nearest house and

phone the AA for help. She rapped on the front door and a crack appeared revealing a familiar face.

"You here, Karen." Came a very unwelcoming and familiar Scottish accent."I'm not going to be a total hypocrite to say that this is a nice surprise, Karen,

walk right in. Not how I feel after you threatened me because I didn't believe that the sun shines out of the backside of that bastard Jim Fenner, your

bloody boyfriend."

"Please ,Helen." Karen pleaded with Helen. Helen's anger was the last thing she needed right now on top of everything else. "I didn't know you lived here…"

"So why did you come, Karen Betts?" came Nikki's level tones from behind Helen, not unfriendly but businesslike.

"My bloody car broke down, my mobile's on the blink and I came to the nearest house I could find to borrow a phone to phone the AA." Karen replied with

a bit of heat. "I know, Helen, that I am not exactly a welcome guest and until tonight, I never knew you lived here."

Nikki gestured to Karen to take a seat and borrow the phone. They were chilling out after a day at work and Karen was hardly the most relaxing company.

Karen felt the atmosphere and was highly conscious of both their feelings that they would wait for Karen to do what she had to do and make her way elsewhere.

Two's company, three was a definite crowd. Karen picked up the phone to dial for help………

Yvonne had the curious sensation for the first time of having shared her bed with a decent guy who cared. This was unheard of in the Atkins world. The attractive

guys to her were the evil bastards, every one of them. This disorientated her even more than sharing the bed with a guy that at one time locked her, and

others, up for a living. Her thoughts of 'screwing a screw' were gently rebounding on her.

"You've got to go, Mark?" Yvonne said with as near to tenderness as she let herself.

"I've got work tomorrow…….don't worry, it's not some lame excuse of 'getting back to the girlfriend or the wife and thanks for the screw.' I meant what

I said about friendship." This was the truth, Yvonne said to herself. Any other guy would have laid on the excuses with a trowel and have given her a load

of flannel. There was as much regret expressed in his eyes as the regret that leaked through Yvonne's own affected nonchalance.

"Don't suppose you'll be around these parts again, not the way your mate let you down and there's nothing much else to bring you back here."Yvonne said,

her eyes to the ground.

"I can't think too well right now, Yvonne, but I don't like the thought of losing good friends right now so if you give me your phone number and I'll give

you mine. If I'd been asked once would I want to come back to Larkhall, I would have said that you must have been joking. Now I've got a reason to come

back".

"And Karen Betts, if you meet up with her again." Yvonne said with a little bitterness that surprised her to hear the way she spoke.

"I don't know the answer to that one Yvonne. If I met her, I'd be as likely as not to call her a few names." Mark said with a little heat, his mouth tight

set.

He loves her, Yvonne thought.

"Well, Mark Waddle," Yvonne said with a faint trace of the smile on her lips that first drew him to her."What about a farewell kiss."

Mark's confusion cleared like that of a fog blown away as the very sexy and attractive woman approached him and they exchanged a long lingering kiss and

clung onto each other for ages.

Then he was gone.

"So how come you two are sharing the same house," Karen said with a little of her spirit returning to her. The AA man had told her that a pickup van would

be there in an hour as they had a lot of callouts.

"We live together." Helen said shortly, a defensive tone in her voice.

"Oh and how long has this been going on, Helen. I take it the day Nikki was released, you met up in a street somewhere and fell in love at first sight."

Karen's raised eyebrow triggered off an overpowering feeling of guilt of breaking the professional standards that still haunted Helen even though she had

left the job far behind.

"The difference between us and you are, Karen," Nikki's level voice chipped in."That ours was a love from opposite sides of the wire and don't you dare,

Karen Betts, to make Helen feel guiltier than she feels even after all these months for the one thing that could be called a lapse in Helen's high standards.

OK you fell for Jim Fenner, yeah…."

"And you a lesbian can't understand that." Karen threw back in Nikki's face.

"Shut up Karen," Helen found her voice."Of course you haven't done wrong directly. It's just that you picked the wrong guy, a total evil bastard. If you

had picked Mark Waddle, do you really think we'd be picking on you, as he's decent and we wouldn't say a single word against him? And perhaps you'd better

start thinking of what you'd let Jim Fenner get away at Larkhall with owing to him pulling the wool over your eyes as you were too blind to see through

him. I found the right woman in Nikki, that's all." Helen finished on a triumphant note with no trace of apology in her mind. For Karen's part, the words

were a slap in the face that had her speechless, especially when Mark's name was brought up. Why do events conspire to push marks name and presence back

into her mind when she had done her best to forget about him and failed so dismally?

"I'd better go if you both feel that way…."Karen said very apologetically. "It's obvious that you don't want me around."

"You stay there, Karen Betts." Nikki's voice rang with authority. "We're not that inhospitable and leave anyone hanging around on a street corner at this

time of night."

And Karen Betts sat down meekly, obeying Nikki's command.

Chapter Twenty Seven

"Are you ready, Nikki." Helen asked in concern sensing the tension in Nikki when she got into the car after packing for the drive to Nikki's parents.

Nikki bit her lip and nodded, not trusting her to answer Helen. In turn, Helen thought, how like Nikki to waver under her own troubles yet the minute anyone

else, especially Helen, has problems , she snaps back to being the old resilient, forceful, totally in command and very protective Nikki. She shook her

head in wonder at the way Karen was meek as a lamb under Nikki's steely eye. This was the Karen Betts who threatened her with all sorts of trouble over

Jim Fenner when Helen was acting Governor and made to feel very defensive despite the rank.

Soon they were out of the town and speeding on fast motorways the long distance over to Nikki's parents. Normally, they would share the driving but in this

case, Helen thought she would take that off Nikki. Helen had gone through their favourite CDs and picked out the most soothing ones for the journey. There

would be time to talk later.

The time crawled by as they drove in limbo land, along the flat featureless roads of today's driving, Helen keeping her eyes and the car pinned in to the

endless white lines of the motorways. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nikki's eyelids closing as her head rested against the side of the car- she

hadn't slept well last night and was catching up on it now. Meanwhile, Joni Mitchell's singing "Hejira" and her acoustic strumming set off by the light

bass and drums and faintly whining electric lead guitar accented the rhythm of the car's driving and rested her thoughts of being out of town and out on

the endless highway. Nikki's parents was a destination that hadn't happened yet- she would catch up with it while the endless driving kept it at bay.

When Helen had got half way there and she was getting dangerously sleepy, she pulled the car off into a service station. Nikki was in a confused dream state

where everything meandered in front of her dreamlike eyes in no particular form when suddenly, daylight shone into her dark dreams. In the middle of her

confusion in being half awake, a sudden shaft of fear panicked her into waking and Helen's tender eyes looked in almost maternal fashion down on her blunting

the edge of the panic. She felt as rough as hell in waking up.

"Come on, Nikki, lets grab a coffee." Coffee, that magic word, was what she was after. Helen grabbed her hand and dragged her into the service station.

The service station was full of its transient population linked to each other only by time and chance and, after the tedium of the endless queue, were sat

down comfortably enough.

"Do you know what we're doing when we get there," Helen asked anxiously.

Nikki was silent and glazed eyed for a bit but Helen knew better than to hurry her.

"I don't know, Helen. I've still kept the front door key to…….I don't know why I've kept it all these years, just a symbol of what I called home…..the lock

might be changed for all I know……If I'd phoned up in advance, they'd find some way of putting me off…..I think. But "And here, Nikki became more definite

at this point." If I, I mean we, land ourselves on their doorsteps, they will have to deal with us."

"Have you worked what you will say," Helen asked anxiously.

"No," Nikki said firmly. "I've never been one for prepared speeches. As you know," and Helen joined with Nikki's smile in shared memories of this" I've

found words choose themselves. Here's hoping this time. Come on, Helen." And Nikki drained the coffee in one gulp." Let's get going."

Presently, they came close to Nikki's home town through the sprawl of recent buildings replacing the fields and country walks she had known and Nikki made

a stream of observations on how things had changed. They made their way to the older parts of town, white painted mock Tudor, mock Georgian housed of every

shape and design which had not changed since Nikki's youth. The blinkered conservatism about the area and its people made Nikki tense and rigid with the

feel of long forgotten bad memories rising to the surface. Remember, Nikki, you are not that child or teenager anymore, she tried to tell herself, looking

in the mirror at herself, and struggled to fight that fear down.

Eventually, they swung round the corner and, there it stood, foursquare, with neat front garden, like a castle and no obvious signs of life.

"Come on, Helen, we're going in," and Nikki headed straight for the front door, snatching at the sudden uprush of confidence and trusting it to carry her

through.

"Nicola ," two voices from the ageing couple of impeccably dressed Conservative upright citizens frozen by shock in mid action.

"You remember my name at least," Nikki forced a smile," and this is my partner Helen Stewart and we've come to visit you after all this time." An enormous

feeling of confidence swept over Nikki as their sudden appearance out of nowhere totally shook up her parents and consequently boosted her confidence.

They are older, smaller and more frail than I remember. She would have to see how the cards fell in the ultimate game of her life and assuming to the fullest

her middle class persona was the next card to pick off the pack to play.

Chapter Twenty Eight

Helen blinked as she took in the almost physical barrier of the coldness displayed by Nikki's parents to them. Her own father was an unbending Presbyterian

Minister and the last person likely to approve when Nikki was first introduced to him but then she'd never approved of anything she'd done in her life

anyway. Helen's father would never admit it to Helen openly but Nikki's firm moral views, as he saw it, and force of personality made a favourable contrast

to the public school smoothies like her ex fiancée Sean and that had eventually broken the ice. Helen couldn't get her head around the thought that Nikki's

parents hadn't kept in contact for nearly twenty years, not even at the time of her first trial or the Court of Appeal. She looked round in the front room

which was covered with photos of different sizes, all of her brother Steven, his wife and children also. Nothing of Nikki

"You should have phoned us first," her father said abruptly. He was dressed in a check jacket, smart shirt and tie with that military bearing that he could

never relax from. Curiously, his face had a vague similarity to Nikki's, though a lot older and with a clipped moustache.

"Would you have ever let us come near you?" asked Nikki with a smile.

"That's not the point. It is a matter of principle." Her father gruffly retorted.

"Oh, I know about principles. I've led my life according to principles though you would never understand."

There was a silence and all of them adopted frozen postures as if in a modern play. Helen chimed in with the traditional conversational opener a question

about the weather down this way with the brightest of smiles in her most confident of tones.

"Oh. I ought to introduce you. This is my partner Helen Stewart." Nikki jumped in with her best polite voice.

"It's been nice and sunny with a pleasant breeze, good for this time of the year…….." started Nikki's mother, in her elegant dress talking automatically

in reply to that very British question which convention had it must be replied to. "……….oh yes, that sort of partner." She ended on a chillier note as

the penny dropped.

"Didn't want you to think I'd got married behind your back and hadn't sent you an invitation." Nikki said brightly.

Helen had to admire the way Nikki stuck to her guns while her parents never gave out any signs of human feeling. It was an interesting her use of that formal

word to think of them, Mum or Dad would have been the obvious one in a house that really was a home.

"Nikki's not talked much about you but since we're here, perhaps we can get to know each other a bit better," Helen buttressed Nikki's attempt to pull down

the barriers.

"Why did you come down here after all these years, Nicola." Her father ignored Helen but burst out with more display of emotion than was there to begin

with. "We'd got enough of a family with Steven and Laura and the children. He is a good son to us."

"Because things have gone on long enough of not speaking, not communicating. It's time one of us made the first move and at my age in life, early thirties,

it might as well be me as anyone." Nikki came back, unruffled, feeling abnormally calm and in command. She had by now 'turned off the video in her head'

of the younger more helpless Nikki, far less confident but with a fragile egg shell teenage bravado, just holding out against the overwhelming avalanche

force of parental disapproval. Now, she quietly lay claim to being adult equals with them, in fact a slight edge in being more forward thinking. For the

first time in her life, she sensed their hesitations and uncertainties. And she blessed the felt presence of Helen beside her.

"Can we have a cup of tea, Dad. It's been a long drive and I always remember that that was the first thing you always wanted when we went out for a day

trip when we were little. I'll make it if you want." Nikki said quietly, making the next move. Straight from her unconscious came the very rare happy moments

when her father took them all out for the day in his elderly Ford Anglia and she and Steven were sat in the back with all the picnic gear and rugs which

swallowed them up.

"No one does anything in my kitchen," Nikki's mother with all the fussiness in her tones that always irritated Nikki when she was little though, truth to

tell, Nikki was not so tolerant of anyone mucking around in the kitchen that she and Helen shared.

Helen could sense Nikki's parents treating her with a rather starchy civility, which she sensed, was them looking at her as 'Nikki's friend' and automatically

recoiling from the thought of 'Nikki's lover.' She smiled to herself thinking that that was enough for the present.

Nikki and Helen's parents were not the only people coming to terms with life's changes. Karen Betts was reflecting on the events of the previous night.

"So what were you up to last night, Karen." Paul asked.

"Oh nothing much, just happened to pop round to see an old work colleague." Karen said casually. She started to ramble at that point in being exaggeratedly

casual till Paul got the point that, no, she hadn't had the intention of seeing Helen, it's just that her car broke down outside Helen's house. Though

a nice guy, he held down a regular job where nothing very unremarkable happened. The same couldn't be said about Karen……

"So who was this friend of yours, Karen?"

"Oh she used to be my boss, acting Governor of the prison till she resigned. I'd had a blazing row with her over an old boyfriend. I was in the wrong, totally."

Karen winced at the memory.

"So how did you get on with her, last night ?" Paul asked, all sympathy.

"Very tense to begin with but her girlfriend stepped in and told me straight how things were. Very impressive Nikki Wade is and she'll be good for Helen.

She was inside at the same prison we were all at, for stabbing a policeman who was trying to rape her ex- girlfriend. Like a comfortable married couple,

Nikki and Helen were."

She couldn't very well tell Paul that she felt the odd one out in being single as he would be upset at that remark but it was true.

Paul looked incredulously at Karen. It was only till then that Karen looked through Paul's eyes, used as he was to staid conventional ways that Karen's

casually dropped words, for that reason sounded like part of some bizarre world. Then she focussed her eyes at herself where run of the mill prisoners

were really part of some darkly exotic dangerous world and part of the colouring of this world was Karen's casual acceptance of lesbian relationships which,

to him were the stuff of tabloid magazines. Even in company like this, Karen could not quite escape the world she worked in.

"It's all very well, Lauren at your age," being a single carefree woman but at my age a lot of the men are either a bleeding walking disaster area, still

at home with mummy and Daddy, bleeding gay or got some other attachment, like Mark waddle," burst out Yvonne to Lauren as she was getting ready to go out.

"It's not so easy at my age starting out again."

"So what do you want, Mum." Lauren asked her directly.

"Wish I knew Lauren, " Yvonne admitted frankly.

Mark was kicking his heels at the bus station waiting for the National Express bus that would take him back to his other world. He didn't know whether he

was glad to be leaving or bitterly regretting that part of his past he wanted to be attached to would be pulled away from him no matter what he wanted

to do. While he was there, a middle aged man was busking, with a harmonica holder round his neck and strumming a big acoustic guitar. If he was shopping,

he would have half heard a snatch of the song and just walked on. Now his ears took in the mournful song about the breakup of a relationship in all its

painful detail that was too close to home. A moment of relief came when the singer blew harmonica phrases drifting in some abstract pattern of its own

when the final words hit home.

"Ah, my friends from the prison, they ask unto me.

How good, how good does it feel to be free

When I answer them back most mysteriously

Are birds free from the chains of the skyway?"

Without knowing why and not caring who might watch, Mark put his hands to his eyes and he cried and cried. He knew right enough what the words were all

about.

Chapter Twenty Nine

"So your friend, Helen has got a degree." Nikki's mother said, for the first time summoning up a little bit of interest in Helen, whose smile was beginning

to cause her facial muscles severe cramp.

"Yes, mother, a psychology degree while mine is in arts," Nikki replied in an understated way.

"How did you get to go to University, Nicola? Which university did you go to," Nikki's mother asked with an image of the dreaming spires of Oxford in her

mind and a topic of conversation ready made for the next coffee morning in the eternal game of 'oneupmanship.'

"You might not like this one but it was at Larkhall Prison." Nikki started off in an apologetic fashion. "but I did get a two one degree. I've got some

photographs to show you" Nikki finished on a more triumphant note, feeling in her handbag for the packet of photos she had got printed ready in advance.

She looked around and noticed her parents start to take a real interest in her now. She crushed the momentary feeling of anger that they would parade her

accomplishments around their friends for totally snobbish reasons and now she had accomplished something do they value her. The only thing that matters

is to bridge the gap and it doesn't matter how it's done, the realistic side of her told her.

Time seemed to be ageless to Helen, right now. She smiled at the curious fact that while Nikki was still generally edgy and uncertain in mundane matters

and wasn't out of the wood by a long way, the worst was over and Nikki had some sort of a grip on the situation. Come the biggest challenge to her life

outside the Appeal Court trial, she rises magnificently to the challenge. Helen looks on fondly as Nikki talks to her parents with more animation. Nikki's

whole persona was that she has knocked around a bit and she has experience of life she can tell her parents about and now they are starting to listen.

At last, Helen sat back more comfortably in her chair as she throws in the odd observation or two and the muscles in her face can relax a bit. All it took

was sheer bloody persistence, ingenuity and the ability to play a two handed game of cards which they were more than capable of………….

Lauren looked curiously at her mother. It seemed strange that she was the one asking her mother about her love life, boyfriends, staying in and watching

TV as opposed to going out on the latest hot date. Only a few years ago, Mum as a happily married woman with her Charlie at her side was comforting her

own tears and telling her that one day, she would meet the man of her dreams.

"So what about Mark Waddle," Lauren asked.

Yvonne's face softened at the memories of him, brief and fleeting but none the less sweet for that. It was painful as it aroused feelings of what she could

be and how complete she could feel except that events swept them away.

"It's no bloody good, Lauren. He works up north, there's no telling when he'll be back and anyway, if he did come back, it would be to the arms of Karen

Betts." Yvonne finished on a downcast note.

"But you've got each other's phone number, Mum." Lauren reassured her.

"It's no use, Lauren. I'm too scared to phone up in case I get let down."

"What about friends," Lauren asked.

"It's funny, Lauren."Yvonne smiled." Before I went inside, all Charlie's friends and their bleeding wives were in and out of this house all the time. Now

I'm on my own, they've forgotten to call. Outside of work, my best mates are Helen and Nikki. Funny how times change."

"You ought to look them up. Friends will stay around them as long as you don't forget them." insisted Lauren, desperate to break Yvonne out of her down

mood. "You needn't go out every night on the pull. There's time"

"And I used to say the same things to you not that long ago," Yvonne smiled fondly on her very caring and very perceptive daughter.

It all started when Mark Waddle was called into his boss's office.

"I want you to take a couple of days off to go down to Larkhall Prison on a matter that needs sorting out, Mark. There's too many times that files coming

in from Larkhall have glaring things missed off the reports. I've gone carefully into why one of our most careful prison officers nearly got killed last

week and it's all part of the pattern."

"But that will leave this place short staffed," Mark said, partly as that automatic uprush of fear that Larkhall always caused.

" There's no way out, Mark. Every time there's something going pear shaped, that's the prison that causes all our 's happened too many times

now. Giving the prison an earful on the phone only catches the fall guy. You know the prison and the prison officers. You're the man to sort it out and

you know the people. I'm writing to the Governor, a Mr Grayling and telling him that you have my full authority and backing for whatever you do or say.

You are not to be mucked around with and I'll arrange cover for your job here."

With such glowing commendations from a boss who he liked and respected, what could he say to that one?

"Yes Miss" he answered.

Once again he was back on the National Express bus travelling down to Larkhall and the humming sounds of the engine steadily eating up the miles.

Chapter Thirty

Mark stepped out of the taxi which had deposited him outside Larkhall prison and, there it was in all its forbidding appearance. A sick feeling came into

his stomach as he remembers the painful memories of the criss cross emotions of anger, jealousy and hurt pride and others swirling around that he couldn't

put a name to. Most of all was the prospect of meeting Karen again. Then he remembered why he was here. He was Senior Officer Waddle, on a par now with

Sylvia, one grade below Fenner and a few below Grayling. But he'd never given a toss about Fenner and, this time, he was the "nice guy friendly investigator"

quite able to pull out and let the "nasty guys from Area" pull the place to pieces.

Once signed in by Ken who made him feel at home, he went into G Wing and immediately a chorus of cheers came from some of the prisoners.

"Mr Waddle, sir," Julie Saunders came up with a big welcoming smile."Things ain't been the same since you left. If you hadn't have gone so quick, some of

the girls would have made up some sort of card for you. How are you doin'"

"A lot better from seeing you and some of the other prisoners around." Mark responded with a warm smile, overcome by the reception. He knew he was fairly

well liked but he didn't know he was missed that way. His feelings of hurt blocked him from seeing the way others saw him. It was a bit of a film star's

welcome and it buoyed up his feeling of well being till he saw the forbidding face of Sylvia in the distance. It wasn't lost on him that he'd got more

to worry about from his fellow officers than the prisoners whom all the bolts and bars were built to guard him against.

."Have you come back for good? Mr Waddle?" Denny greeted him. "We miss you …sir." she finished hesitantly, just stopping saying her trademark 'man.'

"Only just down for the day. I'm sorry, everyone," he finished seeing their disappointed faces and part of him actually feeling nostalgic about Larkhall.

"If you're looking for Yvonne, she got released, man."

"A pity then, Denny." Mark replied not knowing if he could keep a straight face." I'm really glad for her."

He knew he'd got a meeting now and he had to make his farewells, cheered up by his reception. He would need it, he thought to himself. Presently, he made

his way to the PO's room where Fenner was taking the meeting. Karen, he understood, was off for the day and he felt more relieved than anything. It made

matters less complicated somehow and he could stick to business.

"And you'll all remember Mark Waddle. He's not come back here permanently but to improve the liaison between Larkhall and the nick up north where he works.

He'll chat to some of us afterwards"

Mark smiled grimly at Fenner's typical 'sweep everything under the carpet' approach. came over as Mr Smooth except for the odd glare in his direction when

people weren't looking.

Presently, he was assembled in a private room with Sylvia, Di Barker and Fenner and Mark found himself at the head of the table. He took in Di's friendly

but nervous expression, Bodybag's best po faced glare and Fenner's more hidden hostility, helped himself to a glass of water.

"Look here, lads……and Sylvia. I'll come clean. I' ve come over from my nick, at my Governor's request to sort out in a friendly way, some problems we've

been having with the files coming over from you………"

"A snooper, that's what I call you. Snitching on your workmates." Bodybag piled into the debate with both feet and minus brain. Di raised her eyes at Bodybag's

rant in exasperation while Fenner erased all expression on his face. Play it cool and see what waddle comes up with.

"Sylvia, you have two choices. We talk quite informally and try to stop some of the cock ups coming from Larkhall, some of the botched reports and the sort

of thing that one of my best mates got done over by a dangerous prisoner and all because someone, and I think I know who it is," and at this point, Mark,

having taken fire, stared intensely into Bodybag's eyes with contempt and anger,"didn't write up how she kicked off here. We know it happened from talking

to the prisoner but was there a whisper of it from the file coming in? Was there hell. And you'd better make up your mind that either things get sorted

out the nice friendly way or I pull out, go back to my boss who will get onto Area and you take the consequences. So which way is it to be?"

"Sylvia, we'd better talk with Mark like he says," Di said urgently. "I feel terrible that one of us was attacked that way. There's no excuse. Come on,

Mark knows us and we know Mark."

There was a deadly silence where a pin could have dropped and echoes round the room. Sylvia's expression was even more hostile but she knew when she was

beaten. Mark didn't believe at first that he had asserted himself as much as he had and read the riot act to them and what he had said felt unreal to himself

as if someone else had done it Then a delicious feeling swelled up inside him of making some of those bastards jump that needed to and keeping them jumping

while he prodded them with a stick from behind. It is not a good idea, Mark reflected, for anyone to take for granted an easy going good guy like himself

as God help anyone if he gets angry. The last time he felt as good about himself this way was when he kneed Fenner in the bollocks. This is the same sort

of thing, only more permanent. Very satisfying feelings of controlled, focussed anger ran through him making him think lightning quick. All eyes were focussed

on him for them to hear and accept what he had to say next. Sylvia's heart sank when he took her down to the files where he raked over them with a fine

tooth comb much to Sylvia's embarrassment. He knew where the bodies were buried from working there and where to look.

Much later, the good feelings from a good day's work and a few old scores settled, he went out on his own but felt a bit disappointed that all his old mates,

once up for a 'lad's night out' seemed to have gone all domesticated since his absence.

"Sorry, Mark,"Ken explained, feeling genuinely regretful as he'd heard whispers along the grapevine already what Mark had done."It's my wife. She's been

on at me to spend more time with her and the kids. I get enough stick from her about being a single parent with the shifts I've done recently. If you're

around another time, give us a bit more notice and I'll have more time to talk her round,"

"I'll go out on the town on my own." Mark said and shot off back to his hotel, a quick change and freshen up and out on the town.

The feel of the city in the evening cheered him up, as the streetlife and bright lights looked more attractive. Certainly better than hanging round the

hotel lounge being bored out of his brain and drinking to numb the boredom. It was on expenses so he shouldn't complain.

He pushed his way into a bar tucked a little way off the busy main street and it wasn't too crowded inside. He was served a pint of bitter and gulped a

generous measure down with a sigh of satisfaction. The feel of being off duty and the first pint did a lot to restore his belief that all was right with

the world. He turned round and, right in front of his eyes was the one woman who had been at the back of his mind all the time he had been away but he

could never admit it. The shock temporarily rooted him to the spot.

Chapter Thirty One

"What the hell are you doing back in Larkhall, Mark Waddle? Seeing you once a few weeks ago was enough." Karen's sharp voice cut through the usual noise

level in the bar, helped by years of doing the same in prisons.

"I think I can come and go as I bloody well please, Karen Betts. Remember, you were the one saying 'It's not happening.' This was after I'd tried to be

the sensitive caring guy…well as best as I could." Mark fired back though a little voice at the back of her head asked himself, how the hell did Karen

know he had been here before in the first place?

"Oh don't think I mind and that I want to cramp your style, Mark Waddle. And yes did I really want you cross questioning me all the time, asking me endless

questions about that night." There were traces of other feelings in Karen's angry tones running opposite to the words. In arguing with Mark, she was exhuming

a tangled up packages of memories and experiences she had buried and thought she had dealt with. Did she really want to have to relive those experiences

and, worse still, to work out again was she right or wrong about matters that she wanted to see the back of?

Mark shook his head in the chances that led them both to meet in this way and, of course the wide scale black and white film of Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca

was running in his head while he struggled with his feelings.

"Of all the bars in all the towns, I have to meet you tonight, Karen Betts." A disconnected voice in head told himself there was no piano player singing

"As time goes by" but the normal bar crowd. Karen gave an ironical twist to her mouth as she realised where the words came from. "Look here, we could do

with somewhere quiet to talk, Karen." he said more quietly.

"Oh yes, so you can talk sweet nothings and ask me if we can start again. I don't think so." Karen's scornful tones were pitched over the sounds of the

pub.

"No, Karen Betts, it's because this pub is so bloody noisy I can't hear you too well and I don't see why I should shout above the crowd. This way." Mark

pushed at Karen's shoulder and gestured to an alcove which was away.

"You don't push me around Mark Waddle in trying to be all masterful."

"Oh shut up, Karen."

Mark took a swig from the pint of beer he was holding and said nothing for a bit while Karen glared in silence.

"So how did you know I've been here in Larkhall, Karen? I don't deny it but just for the record, how did you know?" Mark said at last.

"Just that you were arm in arm with that Yvonne Atkins. Remember, that wine bar and you two walking down the stairs. Do I have to draw a picture?"

Mark was having more and more trouble in working out what Karen was playing at. He felt that he was in a revolving door and meeting himself coming out the

other side.

"What in hell is going on in your mind, Karen." Mark said in bewilderment." All the time, I was the one getting heavy when you wanted to 'let it flow, have

some fun. 'In that case, I have gone out of your life, been out of it for a long time and as far as you know, I might easily be with someone else and you

shouldn't care less who I see and what I am doing? You're not making any sense. Unless……………" and Mark paused.

"It's that it is unprofessional Mark Waddle."

"Oh so you really care about me. Only you've got a funny way of showing it." Mark yelled in sheer frustration.

"It's a purely professional matter, Mark," Karen urged, the anger in her voice a lot more softened now. "I don't want to see anything bad happen to a good

officer. God knows, there aren't many of those round now."

The conversation ground to a temporary halt, neither of them knowing what to say next.

"Let me get you a drink, Karen. While I'm here for the night."

"I though you might be going out with Yvonne," Karen retorted drily."I'm sure you can't prefer my company to hers."

"It's none of your bloody business, Karen Betts, but I'm not going out with Yvonne. It was a one night stand that night you saw us. We're just good friends,

that's all. Yvonne knows it. Besides, I'm here for the day on business at Larkhall and going back tomorrow." Mark said quietly and evenly. He didn't repeat

the jab of 'being out of her life' as he was not altogether sure that that was what she wanted. He felt very confused now and the long day including early

start with travelling down by coach started to catch up with him. He sat back against the bar seat and closed his eyes. He was really tired. Images flashed

back into his mind of the smiling faces of Denny and the 2 Julies and the hostile faces of Sylvia and Fenner. He'd been worrying about this day, how it

would pan out, and now a stand up row with Karen was something he did not need.

A touch of concern for Mark came into Karen's eyes as she calmed down a bit. She couldn't deny that he had told her the truths, in fact some unpleasant

truths that she didn't want to here.

So what does she do now, she thought as she sipped her glass of wine?

Much later at night, Mark was sprawled full length on his hotel bed with the room spinning round. The rest of the night had faded away into a more friendly

yet impersonal conversation which he had more and more trouble in keeping up with,

Eventually, Karen helped steer him in the direction of his hotel, as, so she told herself, he wasn't safe out on the streets in case he got mugged. She

would do it for anyone. The dark ceiling high above spun gently overhead. He was too tired to work anything out anymore.

Chapter Thirty Two

With that famous world weary sigh, Bodybag climbed into the driving seat of the huge black hearse to pop into town to do some food shopping. Larkhall hadn't

built one of those out of town supermarkets so Sylvia was stuck with manoeuvring the huge vehicle through the busy streets. The damned thing stuck out

a mile at the back and she was always nervous of scraping the back corners on someone else's vehicle. Last time, Bobby moaned on for months about the trouble

in making the insurance claims, losing his no claims bonus and for weeks looking like an eyesore with the huge gash and dent on the corner. And all for

his braised meatballs and a few bits and pieces. A little runabout was more to his taste. This on a Saturday morning after she had slaved in the files

at work doing endless corrections and write ups of reports after that cheeky Mark Waddle had made her feel like a prize fool when he turned up out of the

blue.

On the second time round the block, Bodybag couldn't believe her luck when she saw a line of parking spaces nice and convenient to Sainsbury's. The fools

who hadn't seen those spaces needed their eyes tested. She reversed the hearse into the parking spot she'd seen with loads of room back and front, and

her eye on the shop noticed out of the corner of her eye some yellow markings on the road which made not the blindest bit of sense to her and rushed on

with her shopping bag.

An hour and a half later, Bodybag came out of the store breathless and harrassed from battling with the Saturday morning shopping but satisfied with what

she had got. She heaved open the boot to the huge back end of the hearse and dumped the carrier bags in the car. That left her a nice amount of time for

her to cook dinner before her Bobby came back from the local British Legion club. Coming round the front of the car, she noticed a strange object taped

to the front windscreen.

"Who the hell has left junk mail," she sighed impatiently.

She skimmed the notice and to her shock the first paragraph informed her in unbending official language that her car had been left in a space 'not permitted

to her' and that she was to "pay to the Magistrates Clerk, Fines and Fees Department, Town Hall, Larkhall the sum of thirty pounds within fourteen days

without fail"

"Poppycock" Bodybag exploded and marched over to the traffic warden who was waiting for her like to come blustering over to him. He knew the type.

"My man." Bodybag said in her best haughty official tone."You have left an unauthorised object on my windscreen as I am within my rights in parking my vehicle

where it is on this thoroughfare."

The traffic warden patiently led her to the hearse and his outstretched finger silently pointed to the worn and chipped words "disabled" written in capitals

the length of the road.

"Under the Traffic Act on this notice, you are not permitted to park your vehicle earmarked for the needs of the disabled" intones the traffic warden in

tones that harked back to his Army days.

"But this is ridiculous," exploded Bodybag. "I do not see why the disabled should be mollycoddled by the state in this fashion."

Jim Fenner came out of the pub across the road having had a skinful. All he wanted was to lurch his way onto the nearest bus to take him home. Oh my God,

that's Sylvia having a run in with a traffic warden. The silly cow had got nicked by a traffic warden, he thought. Well, I'm off duty, if a prisoner kicks

off at her at work, I'll come and drag her

off Sylvia but nobody's paying me for getting her out of a spot of bother today so I'm off. Pulling his coat lapels up and doing his best to look inconspicuous,

Fenner nipped off down the side alley at the back of the pub.

As the argument gathered force between the two opposing dinosaurs, a crowd of people started the gather. Nikki and Helen were just about to pop into the

same pub that Fenner had vacated only a minute earlier when some impromptu street entertainment caught their attention which was vastly more entertaining.

"Hey, that's Bodybag," Nikki called out in glee with the biggest smile on her face that Helen had seen for months. "Come on, we must watch out for this

one."

Helen moved forward, instinctively, to intervene to help out what in one mental flash was someone who she was responsible for as Wing Governor when Nikki

grabbed her arm.

"Helen, you aren't at Larkhall anymore. You've left there months ago and you're just an ordinary passer by. The cow never had any time for you when you

were there when it mattered most, remember?"

Right in front of Helen's eyes was the image of Bodybag when she was just about to explain to an outraged wing, headed by Nikki that Carol Byatt's miscarriage

was a 'tragic set of circumstances' out of loyalty for the system and the later full scale riot when she knew later from Nikki's account that Bodybag's

jackboot approach had fanned the flames in the first place. She shook her head and was back to the present and a similar broad grin spread across her face

and a mischievous glint lit her eyes.

"You're right, Nikki" she said squeezing her arm in gratitude. "Let's take a seat in the rear stalls and watch the show."

Helen felt a light tap on her shoulder and spun round to see Yvonne's grinning face and twinkling eyes.

"Hey Yvonne. Come and watch the show."

"You're not stepping in to help Bodybag out?" Yvonne said in her most innocent tones which did not deceive Nikki or Helen one bit

In a moment of mixed shock and hilarity, Mark Waddle and Karen Betts arriving on the scene totally independently, were just in time to see an exasperated

Bodybag thinking of Bobby moaning about her being late as always, raise her handbag and wallop the man in the face with it and the heavy object landed

smack on target.

Chapter Thirty Three

Out of the corner of Nikki's eye, she spotted the familiar form of a policeman on the beat and, flashing a quick devilish smile at Helen, she ran lightly

over to him with her best innocent look in her eyes.

The policeman was bored with being on foot patrol watching the shoppers pass by. Suddenly, an attractive neatly dressed well spoken woman hurried over to

him in a tearing hurry.

"Please, sir, a traffic warden has just been attacked. Can you help out? It's just over here"

He responded at once to that plea in the woman's big brown eyes, and hurried over to deal with, and apprehend what sounded like a very dangerous villain

and to ensure the streets of Larkhall are kept safe for ordinary decent citizens to go about their lawful business. Lumbering over, he made his way towards

the crowd which had built in size to a full scale event, Nikki trailing after him.

"I'm glad that there are normal, decent minded respectable citizens ready and willing to report crime. Too many people walk on by, these days. Thanks, Madam."

the policeman described in his ponderous manner.

Nikki had melted back into the crowd when the policeman passed through to the scene of the disturbance and came up, with his surprise, to an apparently

respectable middle aged woman but who was very abusive towards the traffic warden. His spectacles were lying smashed on the ground and he was holding his

face which had received the impact of the blow from a very full ladies handbag, delivered with some considerable force leaving him in some pain. He needed

to make a preliminary investigation into the incident and find out the background details.

"Now then, now then what started this all off" the policeman demanded in a peremptory tone.

Karen watching from the side saw Nikki Wade having the cheek to pose as the respectable citizen and couldn't help but smile. However, she really thought

she can't leave Bodybag to struggle on her own and dig herself even deeper into a hole.

"Hey, Karen, "Mark said with a grin on her face."I know you're conscientious and all that but do you really need to get involved in a private matter on

a Saturday morning. Think. It's the weekend, your time off."

"This is a serious matter, Mark if you must know." Karen replied, straightening her face and trying to look severe."I am responsible for the wellbeing of

my staff. And in any case, are you trying to run my life again, Mark Waddle?" Karen finished suddenly on a sharper note, remembering the stand up row they

had last night.

"It's up to you, Karen." Mark said evenly, suppressing the impulse to say that he didn't give a toss what she decided for a more diplomatic approach."It's

only my advice which you can take or leave but I'm just explaining to you that you are her boss but you aren't her nanny. Sure if Ross calls on you for

help then go to the rescue if you want but not Sylvia. Not the one person who gets into one scrape after another because of her stupidity or because Mrs

Jobsworth treating people like crap. Not the woman you had to demote. She's getting a bit of her own flavour now, just look." Mark spoke nonchalantly yet

persuasively to Karen.

At that point, Karen's serious mask split asunder and a wide grin split her face in two and she nearly gave way to impulse to reach out for Mark's arm to

hold onto while they stood and watched. At least for now they are safe with each other while they watched the spectacle from a safe place.

"Mrs Hollamby, I must insist that you accompany me to the Police Station round the corner." the policeman insisted." Your hearse can remain there for the

duration of the enquiries without any further penalty."

"But you can't arrest me," spluttered Bodybag. "I've got my husband's dinner to cook for him. I am needed elsewhere."

Suddenly, Bodybag looking in despair at the crowd around her saw the twinkling eyes of that gangster's moll, Yvonne Atkins looking mockingly at her.

"Tut tut, Mrs Hollamby, what have the streets of Britain come to."

"And don't you say anything Wade or I'll….." started Bodybag.

"…..or what, Sylvia." Nikki gleefully replied. "Arrest me?"

Helen maintained an amused silence and let the policeman escort Bodybag away while the injured traffic warden trailed after the couple. She did not need

to say anything as the smile on her face said enough.

"All right, the party's over now," called the policeman. If the intention was to disperse the crowd it failed abjectly as groups of people nattered away

to each other what they saw. In the crowd that was left, Karen and Mark sidled their way through the crowd to where Nikki Helen and Yvonne were still assembled.

Chapter Thirty Four

All five of them felt a bit strange all meeting up like some sort of reunion, especially the ill assorted collection of people bound together by friendship

and love and others driven apart by rivalries and past arguments.

Mark was the first to break the ice with the dreadfully obvious but effective lead in.

"Hi Nikki, Hi Helen. Haven't seen you two for months. How are you both doing."

"Doing great, " Helen beamed "Though Nikki's been under the weather recently…."

"…..but very much cheered up seeing old Bodybag being carted away. Think they'll shove her in the police lock up for the night?" Nikki finished off.

At that choice remark, they all burst out laughing, Helen's laugh audible for yards, drowning out Mark's. They couldn't stop laughing for some time and

when one of them was about to stop, another would set them off again. Karen had by now fully relaxed and they were all the better for it.

"Come on, now we're altogether, let's hit the nearest pub." Mark called out.

"All that extra rank's gone to your head, Mark Waddle, "Karen smiled.

"Not that, Karen but the beer will," grinned Mark.

Karen looked around and saw a shadow cross Yvonne's face like a cloud floating across the sky and the sunlight on a lake turn to shadows. She was happy

enough but with that edge and she thought she knew why. If she ended back with Mark, and this seemed increasingly likely, then Yvonne will feel the 'odd

one out' amongst the couples even though she was happy enough. She needed to take Yvonne aside and clear the air at some point.

They found an alcove and table seated for four people and Mark manhandled a chair to sit at the top table.

"So what brings Mr Waddle back down these parts," Yvonne asked with gentle irony.

"Back on business," Mark replied, taking a swig from his beer." I want to make sure that Sylvia……"

"You mean Bodybag," interjected Nikki with a grin.

"…does what she is supposed to so the files are kept in order. No more headcases slipping into my nick and no one noticing."

"So why should we…I mean, anyone care." Nikki asked.

"You remember when Tessa Spall got transferred to Larkhall, Nikki. Someone and I'm not naming any names,"and Karen's look of irony gave the game away,"

mixed up the file with Barbara Hunt's. And the result, I got a woman holding a syringe of her blood, HIV positive to my face, and you got attacked by her

yourself, so I hear and………….." Karen stopped short, mindful of the fact that they were in a pub and that Nikki would not appreciate a chunk of her past

being broadcast round a public place, like 'losing her privileges.' Karen and Mark exchanged mental notes to ask later on how come as, the observant prison

officers of Larkhall, they didn't know that one and can someone explain that one to them.

"Thanks, Karen." Helen smiled appreciatively, for the first time for what seemed a lifetime, being grateful for the woman and not being angry with her.

"Anytime, Helen." Karen replied, now fully relaxed round them and feeling the warmth of the company and the taste of the vodka ran through her.

As the chit chat went on, Mark was feeling that he was slipping back into the old easy comfortable way of living with Karen where the camaraderie of the

daytime was bookended by the tenderness of the evenings. He remembered laughing and joking with Karen when she, the supposed squash team winner was left

distinctly flagging from the shots he was playing on the court and, yes, it seemed an eternity ago that they went out to the very same pub they were now

in and he kissed her for the first time. Thinking back to the last time he'd met her he thought she had a funny way of caring for him but, then again,

he wasn't much better. Karen, for her part, let a bit of her mind drift back to the dreadful time after she had made that fateful blunder to turn her car

right and drive to a certain bed and breakfast place when she could have easily kept going straight over that junction and gone back home, watched a soap

or something undemanding and things could have worked out so much easier and better. Ah well, second chance now.

Helen was chattering vivaciously away, feeling happy for herself and happy for Nikki who was back to her old self and who was well away in good company.

It had been a tough few months acting as Nikki's carer and treading that fine line between respecting her tough individualism and gently intervening when

she felt she had to.

Helen gazed straight into the sunlight as it streamed through the leaded light windows of the pub, bathing the place in tints of gold. Karen's blond mane

of hair was caught up by the sun and her blue eyes glinted the happiness she was feeling and it was obvious to her that her and Mark were going to be an

item. Karen for her part dreamily reflected that they would not have argued so much in that way if the feelings weren't fundamentally there. If there had

been cold indifference, either of them were free individuals and could have simply walked away from each other and, no, she wasn't just doing her duty

in helping him back to his hotel that night, much though she tried to tell herself otherwise at the time. Karen looked sideways and caught a look on Yvonne's

face. She was happy enough and relaxed but there was a sadness and look of envy that she was on her own and Karen soon would be not. Her heart suddenly

went out to the woman whom she could now see that she respected however often they had been at odds with in the past. She was in charge now either as Wing

governor or plain Karen Betts of what she must do.

"Hey, Yvonne, do you want to help me get the next round in." Karen asked looking Yvonne in her eyes who, true to form, got the message.

"Look here, I don't know how to say this but I thought I'd be the first to tell you that it looks like me and Mark are getting back together. I feel bad

about it ………"

"So why are you telling me about this one, Miss Betts." Yvonne looked at her coldly.

"Because I want to do things straight down the line and if Mark did feel that he wanted to be with you rather than me, I wouldn't throw myself at him and

spoil things for you. I like and respect you too much………despite past bad experiences, despite everything."

"You're telling me this straight?" Yvonne stared right into Karen's eyes if not her soul.

"Straight as a die, Yvonne." Karen said without hesitation.

"Well, Karen," There was a flicker of a smile on Yvonne's face and Karen knew she'd passed the exacting Atkins test for ruthless honesty and was proud to

be so judged by her strangely after years of being her jailer" We'd better get the drinks in or else Mark and Helen will be calling for our blood. They

can both put the bloody booze away."

"You're in charge Yvonne." Karen smiled broadly and at the back of her mind this was the first time Yvonne had called her by her first name.

"About bloody time, you two." Mark called out were you two talking about at the bar?"

Yvonne looked at Karen and replied straight away.

"Oh only a bit of girl's talk."

"So then, Mark." Helen called out with a smile on her face. "When are you going to put in for a transfer back to Larkhall and help put the bloody place

right. Karen can't do it on her own, you know. I tried it that way and look where it got me."

"Yeah, Mark." Nikki chimed in with her dazzling smile. "Yvonne and me aren't around any more and by the sound of what we've heard of Grayling, Karen can

do with all the help she can get."

"It's a lovely idea," Mark grinned, blushing" But I'd feel bad at letting the guys down where I am. I don't know if it can be done."

"You know bloody well, Mark Waddle, that the only danger you have where you work is death by boredom. If you want a comfy life, fine, if that is where your

heart is settled………..."Karen went on very nonchalantly while Yvonne thought to herself, you crafty con artist, Karen Betts,"………….but if we can lure you

to the rigours of Larkhall, sneering in Fenner's face, looking after prisoners who need your caring touch, then I suggest putting in for a transfer. Right

away".

"And that's an order from me, Mark Waddle. And if you disobey, then be scared. Be very scared." And Yvonne's hard penetrating stare gave Mark Waddle the

treatment and he agreed After all, what else could he do?

The End

In this fic, I must give credit to Kristine for her very helpful suggestions and encouragement as always. Likewise, I am really grateful for the intelligent

interest by Mad Scientist and I am proud and honoured to be among a circle of like minded people with whom I feel spiritually at home.


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